In the Shadows
by Takk
Summary: This tale follows the path of one of the last elven groups left as they struggle to stop Sauron from complete domination of Middle Earth. Middle earth has fallen into darkness…..it lies now in the shadows, desperate to be bathed in light once again
1. Lost Hope

Disclaimer: Most characters don't belong to me, the ones you haven't heard of I made up..or I found somewhere. All character descriptions (elves and humans and wizards and that) belong to Tolkien (who, I must say, is a genius.) All place names and places belong to him too. In other words: I no own, you no sue. *puppy dog eyes*  
  
Summary: Middle Earth has once again fallen under the influence of Sauron following the reunion of the Dark Lord and the One Ring. With Galadriel under a powerful spell that inhibits her powers, he remains unchallenged and feared by all. Most of the elves have left Middle Earth and the iron fist of the Uruk-Hai and Orcs that make up Saurons army is slowly crushing all human resistance.  
  
This tale follows the path of one of the last elven groups left as they struggle to stop Sauron from complete domination of Middle Earth. Middle earth has fallen into darkness...it lies now in the shadows, desperate to be bathed in the light.  
  
~~In the Shadows~~  
  
Chapter One - Lost Hope  
  
**  
  
It's all over.  
  
Sauron got his Ring back, Mithrandir's death, and we're all in hiding, not that that's going to help.  
  
The Fellowship has failed, my cousin said it would, but I always believed in them. They have been captured, locked in the dungeons of Barad-dûr, helpless and useless.  
  
Slowly, but surely, the armies of Mordor and Isengard are wiping out all human resistance. All that we feared has become truth.  
  
There is not enough strength in the elves; more than half have already left for Valinor. I'm sure that Sauron planned all this. He waited until our defenses were at their weakest, then attacked at the top, a spy of his stealing the Ring of Galadriel, exposing Lothlórien to the enemy. He then overwhelmed Lórien, we were easy to take, and both our Leaders had gone. Galadriel, my mother's cousin, taken by the Dark Lord, and her husband murdered.  
  
Our Lady, bound by sorcery and locked away in Barad-dûr until she accepts Saurons mocking terms. Marry him and share her power, or die.  
  
The Hobbits of the Fellowship have fled back to the Shire, their homeland, but there is no hiding from the rot of Mordor.  
  
**  
  
We travel at night, it is easier, and none of the Uruk-Hai can spot us this way.  
  
I am traveling with a small group of elves. They had narrowly escaped a dismal future, locked in the dark cells, deep in the dungeons of Isengard.  
  
I have heard whispers of Saruman trying to get the One Ring for himself, but Sauron intervened. The alliance between the Two Towers grows weak; one cannot guess what catastrophe could come about if they made war with each other.  
  
**  
  
It is cruel to lock elves away without sunlight or fresh air, the view of the world snatched unfairly from them. I've heard that Sauron is deliberately making elves go mad so he can use them in his army. He believes that elves are greater warriors (and that we are!) and he needs our archery skills.  
  
I am worried about what comes next. What will happen when Sauron has complete control of Middle Earth? Will he start wars amongst us?  
  
**  
  
We travel to Isengard. The Ents that live in Fangorn believe that they have played their part in this war and have gone back to their homeland, waiting for the fires of Isengard to affect them before they come out again. We will try to get them to help, but it is uncertain that they will. They lost many in their previous march and are unwilling to lose more.  
  
We have travelled long and we are all weary. There are eight of us all together. Most of the group is from Rivendell, half elves, related to Arwen and Elrond. Lord Elrond had persuaded his daughter to go to Valinor and they have gone, leaving Aragorn, who was betrothed to Arwen, behind. Arwen had no will to go, but had been mortally wounded by the Dark Lord and she was torn between her Love and the peaceful eternity that awaited her arrival.  
  
The only other from Lórien other than myself is Tarí. She is younger than is and the sister of one of my cousins friends. I regret that we did not meet in happier times, she is a lovely girl.  
  
There are also two elves from Mirkwood. They are determined to reach Mordor and rescue their Prince, Legolas, who travelled with the failed Fellowship.  
  
**  
  
The blame for this calamity rests on the shoulders of the now dead Mithrandir. He was friend to the elves and we grieve his passing, his second passing in the eyes of his friends.  
  
He tried to destroy the One Ring. He had discovered of a known way to rid the world of this evil, other than to cast it into the fires of Mount Doom. He tried to use it but the strength of his spell was rebounded and he died.  
  
The Ring was affected though, which cast doubt into the mind of Saurons followers. A large white scratch now lies down the side of the Ring.  
  
**  
  
We have reached the outskirts of Fangorn, but the rotten, mud eating slugs that are Uruk-Hai have the forest well guarded. There is no way to get into the forest without being seen.  
  
We can see Orthanc in the distance, and although the Ents flooded the tower in their last march with the waters of the river Isen, Saruman must have found a way to cease the flow of the river once again. '  
  
I think often of the Ringbearer, a young Hobbit from the Shire. I wonder how a thing so great and powerful could be entrusted into this hobbit's care.  
  
We have received news that the Shire is overrun by vagrants and tall men. I hope the Ringbearer and his companions make it home safely.  
  
**  
  
We have waited two whole days, but there is no gap in the security. Even if there were, we have no way of knowing what lies in wait of us in the forest.  
  
The two elves from Mirkwood, Bereth and Orodreth, two brothers in service of their prince, Legolas, are adamant that we must travel through Fangorn.  
  
"We need all the help we can get!" Orodreth said furiously we Tarí and I refused to go.  
  
I think they miss the woods sorely, we all do, but Fangorn is no place to quench that longing. Tarí stands with me when I say that we should forgo Fangorn and find another was to Orthanc, but the Rivendell elves think they have the authority here and since they are a majority, no one dares to go against what they say.  
  
**  
  
Against Tarí's and my wishes, we have decided to slip into Fangorn. The Ents are sorely needed, says Aranel, the self-appointed leader of our small group.  
  
We are to go at nightfall, when the Uruks sight is dimmed and we can slip by, one by one, unnoticed. Hopefully we can find the Ents this night.  
  
Tarí and I are worried that even if one of us were to be captured, the Uruk- Hai who know to look for a group of us.  
  
Bereth and Orodreth are growing impatient. They want something to be done now. There have just left to try and kill and few Uruk-Hai.  
  
I have wasted my breath trying to warn the two not to go.  
  
"How do you explain Uruk-Hai corpses full of elvish arrows?" I protested, begging them not to go. "You may as well shout at them and tell the whole world of our presence."  
  
"Why?" Orodreth sneered. He and I do not get along. "Have you seen it in your mind? Have you?" He nearly shouted, but remembered himself and quietened his voice.  
  
I shook my head miserably.  
  
"Well then don't bring bad luck down upon us. Your Lady has done enough already." He said, shouldering his bow.  
  
I shook with rage. How dare he insult Galadriel? Tarí took my hand and didn't let go, restraining me from hitting Orodreth.  
  
Our supplies are little and we desperately need to stock up on fresh water. We carry a lot of Lembas, but even though it is originally of our make, one does get sick of it, day after day.  
  
**  
  
It is over  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hello! *waves* Welcome to the first chapter of the sequel to Corruption. You know, I always hated reading a sequel that started with a new character, but I think it would get boring if I get following the other storyline. I hope you enjoy my new character.  
  
You'll find out her name soon (don't get excited though, I made her up) I just didn't write her name into this chapter and it would kinda kill it if I just told you now.  
  
Please review! I'm feeling a little blockishy at the moment. 


	2. Lost Freedom

Disclaimer: I don't own it (although I wish I did) I'm using Tolkiens characters and places. They are not of my creation *sobs*. The names aren't mine either, they came from the elvish name generator. (Except Bereth, but then you can just take off a few letters to get that.)  
  
In the Shadows  
  
Chapter Two - Lost Freedom  
  
**  
  
We waited until nightfall, but Bereth left to scout a few hours before dusk. He didn't return.  
  
The Rivendell elves and Orodreth were alarmed and immediately tried to follow but Tarí stopped them. I smiled when she did and wondered whether my actions were affecting her, as she had never confronted the group before by herself.  
  
"Wait!" She had cried, her eyes fearful, something I had not seen in an elf in a long time. Although we had become the hunted, we didn't show our fear of the enemy; we refused to be seen as weak. By showing her weakness, Tarí was showing the other elves that she really thought they should stay.  
  
"He may have been captured and the Uruk-Hai could be waiting for us to find him. If they capture us, they could take us to Isengard as prisoners, or even worse, Mordor!"  
  
Orodreth made a sign against evil against his chest, an old tradition from his homeland. Although we didn't practice it, we all understood what it meant.  
  
"Tarí is right." I said quietly. "We must do this properly."  
  
Aranel nodded and stood up, as we had all been crouched in a huddle. We looked up at him and I cursed on the inside. 'He's enjoying being looked up to' I thought bitterly.  
  
"I will go after him, Orodreth will come with me since the blood bond between the two brothers should help us find him," We all nodded and looked at Orodreth as he stood next to Aranel.  
  
"Next, Oronar, Celahir and Ireth will follow," Aranel said, naming the other three Rivendell elves. The three of them stood, each taking his bow in hand. Tarí and I are the only females in the group.  
  
"You will leave just over an hour after Orodreth and I. Then Ayssa and Tarí shall follow." I stood with Tarí and we both nodded at Aranel.  
  
"Can we trust those two alone?" Orodreth muttered to Aranel, the words meant only for his ears. I nearly laughed. Orodreth should know better, our hearing was as keen as his. Aranel paused to think, then shook his head and frowned.  
  
"Alright then, Celahir," Aranel said, gesturing to the half-elf next to us. "You shall go with these two, to make sure they don't get in trouble." Celahir nodded, but looked uncertain.  
  
So we waited. Oronar and Ireth left exactly an hour after Aranel and Orodreth. I wished them luck, silently, and sat back down in my spot, tipping my head back to look at the stars. There weren't many. Most of the smoke had risen up high, blocking out even the brightest of stars.  
  
The hour passed slowly and Celahir looked nervous. He was showing his weakness too, and I wondered if he could sense something I could not. He was anxious to get into the forest and almost ran when Tarí and I agreed that we should leave. I picked up my pack, and then looked at Bereth's belongings. No one had thought to take them, so I hurriedly packed his bag and carried it, his bag in one hand, and my bow in the other.  
  
Just as we entered the forest, I stopped, something pricking at my senses. An ancient anger washed over my senses as we walked. The trees harboured fury and rage so powerful the air was thick with it.  
  
Celahir was eagerly looking ahead for signs of the others, but I noticed strange footprints on the forest floor. Recent ones, ones that looked like-  
  
"Back!" I whispered furiously to Celahir, pulling him back by his collar. Tarí looked alert and followed quickly, looking about for any signs of danger.  
  
Celahir laughed nervously but covered it quickly with a smug smile.  
  
"You must be dreaming. There is no one waiting in the gloom for you, Ayssa."  
  
I held up my hand to silence him and tried to see through the darkness.  
  
"Do you feel that?" I asked very quietly, not wanting my voice to carry to unfriendly ears. I shouldered Bereth's pack and took an arrow from my quiver. Tarí and Celahir were doing the same; except Celahir's hands were shaking so much he could barely draw his bow.  
  
A twig snapped behind us and I turned quickly and shot my arrow at the sound. An awful shriek came from where I had shot and suddenly arrows poured out from around us. We were being struck at from all over. I pulled both Celahir and Tarí down, tears welling up and falling down my face as two arrows struck my back and a third buried itself in my leg.  
  
A shout sounded and the arrow fire ceased. I collapsed onto Tarí who I had pulled beneath me and bit my lip against the pain. Celahir was on his feet and stood protectively over us as an Uruk came from the shadows, a lethal looking sword in hand.  
  
"All of you stand and follow me. You are surrounded."  
  
I cursed and pulled myself up, trying not to cry out in pain, to do that would give them what they would want and that was the last thing I wanted.  
  
"Surrender your weapons or die."  
  
**  
  
We have traveled with the Uruk-Hai for miles. They make us run, fast and hard. With every step, my wounded leg aches and burns, the wound hasn't healed as it should have. The wounds on my back have healed almost completely, but they still hurt.  
  
Even though we elves are nimble and have great stamina, we tire after long periods of time and when we tire, we begin to make mistakes. For every rock we trip over, there is a whip eager to whip our backs with its fiery sting.  
  
Bereth, Aranel, Orodreth and Ireth are at the front of the group, constantly being whipped by their guards for the sheer joy of it. Tarí and I are near the middle of the group. Every step is agony; we have run for days on end. Celahir and Ireth are kept to the back, if they fall behind, when they finally catch up, they too are whipped fiercely.  
  
Sweat pours down the dirty faces of our awful captors. They hate us. They hate us more than we could ever hate them.  
  
More than once have I felt the burning sting of the cruel Uruk whip across my shoulders, but thankfully, they always seem to miss my arrow wounds. I bless the Valar for the tough clothing I wear as it prevents the Uruks from splitting my skin. The bruises I bear are many, but are nothing compared to what pain Bereth suffers. The Uruk-Hai believe Bereth to be our leader and Aranel tells them no different. I would be angry with him, but we must not let disagreements set us apart when we need to stick together.  
  
Despite our fast healing, the wounds Bereth bears are many and the constant running and whipping keeps his wounds open. I hope infection does not set in.  
  
**  
  
Tarí and I have been separated, the only females among the elves. We are not dressed as normal female elves, but I think the Uruk-Hai know anyway. The eyes of the Uruk-Hai constantly haunt me. Do their expressions show hate or lust? More than once has an Uruk hand strayed and I am certain it is not by accident.  
  
I am consumed in fear of what these creatures could do to Tarí and I. Now they have taken Tarí from my side, I feel open and vulnerable.  
  
Celahir, Aranel, Ireth and the others have also been separated; perhaps they want us to remain apart so we can't plan an escape. Every tree we pass, every cave we go by, I feel the urge to fight back and hide. That is my weakness, but I will not let it show.  
  
**  
  
Tarí and I have agreed to pass as men from now on. We are aware that in the eyes of Uruks, and other races, male elves look quite feminine, so hopefully, we shall have no problems.  
  
While the Uruk-Hai sleep, and our guards doze, we talk, but only in pairs. We cannot leave them now as they have set up watches further away, in all directions. We cannot chance that they may be asleep as well. Besides, our hands and feet have been bound, and none of us carry any weapons. We could escape, but to where? It is likely that we would be caught again, but more brutally. Perhaps they would kill us on sight.  
  
Tarí and I told the others of our plan and it was met with grim approval. All Bereth does is rest, he is too weak to talk and we have tried everything we can to help is healing, but his body is severely damaged.  
  
As discreetly as we could, Tarí and I bound our chest flat with spare pieces of cloth from our outer clothing. We bound ourselves so tight we could hardly breathe, but it had to be done. We then helped each other braid our hair in the masculine fashion. When I was done, I regarded Tarí and smiled tiredly.  
  
"You look like my cousin." I said quietly.  
  
"You look like Lord Celeborn." Tarí replied and we laughed silently.  
  
One could say that Tarí and I look almost identical as females, but as males, apparently we look quite different. Not to the eyes of our kin of course. We are always spotting differences and imperfections. It drives my human friends mad.  
  
**  
  
Our plan is beginning to work. The Uruks kept their distance today although I did receive broken fingers for tripping, causing my guard and several other Uruks behind to fall. The whole group halted while my guard kicking me to the ground and spat at me. Fear was dancing around my stomach as he dragging me up again by my hair. He grabbed my right hand and grinned as he snapped all of the fingers.  
  
I tried my best not to scream in pain as I felt them snap. It was sickening to hear my own bones crunching. I held back my pain for as long as I could and only cried when we camped again that night, in privacy, the others leaving me be.  
  
My fingers still ache, almost every movement causes shock waves of pain to shoot through them. They are healing considerably faster than my leg wound, which reopened when the Uruk kicked me to the ground. I will not be able to draw a bow for a long time, which saddens me.  
  
The group then carried on, the other elves not knowing why we had stopped, as they could not see me. They heard news of it as we ran on, comments passed on, Uruk to Uruk.  
  
**  
  
Bereth was tortured today. When will this end?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hello! I'm updating faster than usual because I'm nervous about exams and this takes my mind of it. In fact my first one starts in an hour and a half...so I'm going to go and get ready for that.  
  
Thanks to Luthien for being the first reviewer! *hugs* At the time of writing, no one else has reviewed, but never mind. This is a bit longer..I think, but I've got about four chapters written down, just not typed up so I'll be trying to find random places to cut off, while still trying to make it interesting.  
  
Please tell me your thoughts (but if you really hate it, don't just scream and yell, tell me WHY you don't like it.)  
  
Thanks! 


	3. Imprisonment

Disclaimer: Some pplz say that fanfic authors don't mean what they say in their disclaimers, well, that is a lie! (Said like how Wormtongue says it in ttt) LOTR doesn't belong to me (honestly)  
  
In the Shadows  
  
Chapter Three - Imprisonment  
  
Ayssa  
  
**  
  
We set up camp this morning and the Uruk-Hai spent the day interrogating all of us. Bereth was the first, and as a warning to the rest of us, they nearly killed him.  
  
It anguishes me to say it so blandly, but I must include everything, and there is so little time. Bereth was taken in at dawn, before we were up and we were disturbed from our thoughts by Bereth's heart wrenching screams.  
  
Orodreth is inconsolable and lashes out at anyone who tries to go near. I would know, he struck me when I tried to reassure him that Bereth would be fine.  
  
"What would you know, witch?" He spat and struck out with an eager fist, catching me on the jaw. A bruise is there now, and my jaw aches when I speak or eat.  
  
Tarí went silent, withdrawn and pale, forbidding herself to cry for him as our cover might be blown. I am tired of being a male. Must they always act so emotionless? I thought we were better at expressing their emotions than humans, but the males still suppress most of what they feel. It means that Tarí and I must always be calm and not emotional. It is almost an insult, like saying: She-elves cry too much, to be male, you must not cry.  
  
I wandered the camp alone, and, not wanting to attract attention to myself, I climbed a tall tree, as we have camped near the forest, and cried. I found refuge there in that tree, a beautiful old tree who carries many years. I told him all my troubles and fears and he whispered comfort back to me. I sat in a small pocket between branches and strayed out of thought, leaves dancing before me in the wind.  
  
When I could bring myself to return to camp, I found that I had been missed. The leader of the Uruk-Hai group demanded to know where I was, speaking common so I could understand. What he didn't know is that I am well accustomed to the Black Speech, my distant cousin, the wanderer, taught me of it. All the comments passed between the Uruks were heard and understood. When I couldn't reply to the lead Uruk, he dragged me forward into his tent, where he was currently interrogating Bereth.  
  
He pulled Bereth carelessly from the ground and tossed him in the direction of where we were staying. Bereth was a mess. His left eye was closed completely with bruises and there was a large cut on his forehead, which was bleeding profusely. He was limping heavily, his arm was held in a funny angle, like some unseen force was holding it up.  
  
I watched in horror as the Uruk-Hai jeered at him as he walked back to camp, his final test. A seemingly younger Uruk ran forward and shoved Bereth, causing him to fall awkwardly, landing on his sore arm. Bereth whimpered, but dragged himself up again, and struggled the rest of the way back.  
  
"Hey, enough watching" The leader of the Uruks growled, and pulled me back from the tent flap by my hair.  
  
I fell onto the floor and stayed there, looking at the inside of the tent. It wasn't very big, but the Uruk had managed to decorate it roughly, displaying his commander's medallion among other things.  
  
Then, I saw an elvish war helmet, casually displayed on and spear, symbolizing an elf's head on a spear.  
  
"You were at Helm's Deep?" I breathed in common, recognizing it as the Lothlórien war helmet.  
  
"Yes" The Uruk sneered, looking at the helmet. "Got that from one of yours, slippery blighter. Nearly killed him, but he got away."  
  
I looked a little closer and realized, with shock that it belonged to Haldir, a close friend of my mothers and mine. I kept my expression neutral and studied the inscription out of the corner of my eye.  
  
"What is your purpose?" The Uruk demanded, after some silence. I noticed that he looked a little uncomfortable, not something that would have been noticeable to the other Uruk-Hai.  
  
"We have none." I replied, keeping my voice steady. I looked him in the eye as I said it. He sighed heavily and sat on a large rock that had been moved to serve as a chair.  
  
"I do not believe you. Your leader told us that you were trying to get the help of the Ents, is that true or not?"  
  
Not wanting to cause further harm to Bereth, I nodded miserably. "But we weren't sure that they would help us." I muttered as an afterthought. "We were merely trying to seek refuge in Fangorn-"  
  
The Uruk burst out laughing and stood, shooting an amused look at his guards.  
  
"Seek refuge? In that forest? You must be mad!"  
  
An Uruk burst into the tent and starting gibbering madly in the Black Speech. I only caught some of it as I although I knew the speech, I couldn't understand the Uruk-Hai when they spoke at a high pace.  
  
I mostly caught "Elf...killed..tree..hiding..guard..."  
  
The big Uruk turned to me, and then said to his guards.  
  
"Watch him, don't let him escape. It's your heads if he does." He then exited the tent, following the still gibbering soldier.  
  
I stood and looked at the two Uruk guards pleadingly. "What happened?"  
  
The taller of the two, one with a large patch over an eye, sneered and spat on the ground. "One of your men killed a guard. All your people are now hiding up some stupid tree."  
  
His friend, with a large criss-cross scar on his cheek, looked angry and thrust his spear into the hard ground.  
  
Patch-eye regarded me curiously. "But I guess they didn't know you were here, we'll use you to get them down."  
  
I turned away from the angry Uruks and walked over to where the elvish helmet stood. I ran my fingers over the inscription lightly, a startling vision coming to me as I did.  
  
Blood, then war sounds, then more blood.  
  
Sword..coming out of nowhere..pain  
  
I saw through Haldir's eyes as he fought, Uruk after Uruk. I felt his pain as a great Uruk nearly ran him right through with a spear. The world turned sideways as Haldir fell, and I fell with him. I saw a huge Uruk dying, taking a commanders medallion from his armour and pressing it into another Uruks hand.  
  
I saw the Uruk through something at the dwarf - the dwarf from the fellowship - and I saw it pierce his shoulder.  
  
Roaring/pain/blood/weariness  
  
So tired..so pained...hand closes in, helmet is gone....  
  
I jerked violently and lost my balance, tumbling back from the helmet. I was hyperventilating, my heart raced as I came to terms with how close I was to dying. Even though Haldir hadn't died, the helmet had been taken from Haldir when he was in a dead-like state, meaning I would have died.  
  
A large hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, lifting me from the ground at the same time. Patch-eye leered at me and shoved me out of the tent.  
  
"Time your friends came down from that tree." He rasped and kicked me forward.  
  
**  
  
I could not possibly relay what they have done to me. It didn't take much for Tarí to be driven from the tree, but the others refused to come down, and since Tarí is my responsibility, I couldn't let them harm her.  
  
I am bed bound; my legs are broken and are mending very slowly. They are less painful than yesterday; Tarí reset them, as they were crooked. Aranel and the others have not said a word to me since they were dragged from the tree. Orodreth was the last one to descend, the whole time he was looking at me as if everything was my fault.  
  
The pain comes in waves of dizziness and disorientation. Although we elves are very rarely sick, in fact I had never heard of such a case, I have a high fever and with it comes headaches and dizziness. I know I will not die from this infliction; I will merely suffer the pain of it.  
  
Aranel and Celahir carry me during the day when we travel, Orodreth refuses to touch me, and Bereth is still too weak. He has recovered better than expected, but the pain inflicted upon him mentally will stay with him for a long time. Although Aranel and Celahir are near me all day, they never speak. Always carrying me in grim silence, the only communication is between each other, as if I were a lifeless, senseless body.  
  
The bruises on my face have stopped swelling, and sometimes, usually in the mornings when the cool night air has soothed the swelling, I can see. The brightness startles me, but I am slowly adjusting.  
  
We are near to Mordor. The name leaves me cold, even in the heat of day. Tarí is my protector now, we have kept our male identities, but the Uruk- Hai are suspicious, I can tell.  
  
**  
  
We have set up camp again, but this time, things look more permanent. I wonder how long we will stay here, hopefully a long time, as anywhere is better than the dungeons of Mordor.  
  
Most of the pain has gone, but I cannot walk. The swelling in my face has gone down almost completely and only a ragged gash on my forehead still remains. I would use my Gift to help aid the healing, but I have a feeling that I will need it soon.  
  
The Uruk-Hai have separated us out, except Bereth and I. They have kept Bereth with me, as they no longer see us as threats. They believe they have beaten all thoughts of retaliation out of us. Orodreth is kept under constant surveillance, as he was the one who killed the Uruk-Hai guard. The body of the Uruk-Hai guard has been carefully wrapped and it is shared between a group of five Uruk-Hai.  
  
My cousins had always said that Uruk-Hai are savages, but now, if I ever see them again, I can prove them wrong. Savages, in my cousin's definition, do not respect anyone, and their dead are no exception.  
  
I always believed that the only thing that set our races apart is the overwhelming hatred, felt on both sides, not just one. The Uruk-Hai have been taught that there is no emotion to be felt towards elves other than hatred, and we elves have been bought up fearing and hating the Uruk-Hai  
  
**  
  
We have been here for five days. The Uruk-Hai are alert and have not fallen asleep on their night watches for some time. They are constantly in and out of their captain's tent, and I have not seen the big Uruk since my little meeting with them.  
  
Bereth has almost completely healed. His skin is still a little tender, but he can run and climb trees. My legs ache, but I am able to move them now. I haven't walked for days, but I'm too scared to cause any more damage to them.  
  
**  
  
We are moving again, but this time with more care. The route seems more planned, there are scouts and every turn we make is noted down by a small Uruk holding a tattered map. I can limp slightly, but my legs still ache fiercely. Aranel and Celahir have been allowed to walk beside me in case I need any assistance.  
  
Every time I stumble, Aranel or Celahir grabs my arm to hold me steady, and it is this gesture that sends the Uruk-Hai into fits of laughter.  
  
Tarí and Bereth have been moved to the front. Only Ireth, Orodreth and Oronar are kept alone, at the back, spears being jabbed into their backs at every hesitation. The Uruk-Hai have not seemed to realize that we are from different places. I think it looks quite obviously that we are different. Tarí and I look quite similar in our disguise, and almost identical when not, save for our eyes and height.  
  
Bereth and Orodreth are clearly brothers, not only in the way they look and Aranel, Ireth, Oronar and Celahir are clearly different. They are half elves and are all dark haired. We also sit in slight groups. Slight, in that Tarí and I will always sit next to one another, the Rivendell elves always stand together and talk amongst themselves and Orodreth is always near Bereth, unconsciously checking to see if he is well.  
  
Our pace is slow, but we near Mordor, I can smell it.  
  
~~~  
  
Tarí  
  
**  
  
I cannot believe how the Uruk-Hai could be so cruel! I am furious with Orodreth and Aranel, it was their idea to climb up the tree, it was them who tried to stop me from descending when they dragged Ayssa out, it was them who..  
  
I must calm myself; nothing will be done when I am in this state. They hurt Ayssa so cruelly, and, worst of all, they enjoyed it!  
  
It was Orodreth who killed the guard. He was so angry at what they had done to Bereth; he grabbed the nearest one and snapped his neck. He just leaped at him, his face was that of a mad one, and grabbed the thick neck in his usually delicate hands and-  
  
The next moment, Aranel had me over his shoulder and was climbing a tree. I was in shock, I couldn't move. I just stood there, staring at the lifeless body of the Uruk. Aranel and I were the last ones to climb the tree, and after we had, we heard the alarm been sounded.  
  
We watched as a scrawny Uruk made his way to the commanders tent, and the next moment, the massive Uruk came storming out, two armored Uruk-Hai behind him, each holding an arm of poor Ayssa,  
  
They beat her so harshly, none of us could watch.  
  
~~~  
  
Bereth  
  
**  
  
Through the haze of pain I could see Aranel restrain Tarí, but with some difficulty. The pain was so intense; I could only hear the rhythmic beat of the lethal Uruk whip.  
  
"Oh Valar," I heard someone breathe. "Ayssa."  
  
~~~  
  
Celahir  
  
**  
  
They beat her, they broke her bones, and they slashed her skin with their rough swords. Tarí was the first to climb down and she was restrained roughly as soon as her feet touched the ground.  
  
Ayssa did not make one sound. Not once did she cry out in pain, not once did tears of distress roll down her cheeks. When I caught a glimpse of her face, it was clam, almost happy. I knew she was in another place, somewhere where no Uruk could harm her.  
  
There were two thick tree branches that had fallen and the Uruk-Hai moved them so they were about half a metre apart. They then dragged her up, one Uruk holding her feet on one of the branches, and one pushing her up until she was sitting on the other. The commander then gave us all a gruesome smile, and climbed upon the thickest log. He bent down and said something to Ayssa, then gave a great leap, landing on her thin legs.  
  
The sound of them snapping was awful. Below I could hear Tarí gasping, trying not to cry out in horror.  
  
They dragged her down and began to punch at her face. I could not bear to watch, and so I jumped. I tried to reach Ayssa, but I felt the sharp point of a sword at my neck and so I could do nothing to help her.  
  
~~~  
  
Ayssa  
  
**  
  
We have arrived at Barad-dûr. What foulness and terror awaits us here, I do not know.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
*wipes forehead* phew! Ok, its kinda long *hides* sorrrryyyyyy  
  
Sorry this update took a while..I was studying really hard (not really, but I was studying....and other stuff)  
  
Bonjour! (I was studying for French) J'aurai mourir...hehehehehehe (that's probably wrong, oh well, never mind.) 


	4. Barad dûr

Disclaimer: Characters, places and names etc. belong to J.R.R Tolkien. Yup, Lotr isn't mine.  
  
In the Shadows  
  
Chapter Four - Barad-dûr  
  
Ayssa  
  
**  
  
We have been locked in separate cells, except for Tarí and I. We have been placed in a cell with other men who seem to have been here for a while. The cell is small and dirty, the ceiling is low and the bars that hold us from freedom are thick.  
  
I am glad for my large traveling cloak, as it has hidden my identity from these strange men. Obviously the Uruk-Hai do not see Tarí and I as a threat, otherwise we would have been locked away separately.  
  
We have been told to expect an interrogation later, some of the Uruk-Hai guards said, seriously, that the Dark Lord himself might conduct the "interview" as they called it. The Orc guards here are not exactly gentle. When they cast Tarí and I into this cell, my legs jarred painfully and I spent most of our first night unconscious, or in hazy pain. I have been stretching them and resting them as much as possible. I do not wish to be crippled for life.  
  
Tarí escaped the brutal treatment of the Uruk-Hai with a few bruises, but not serious ones. Our cellmates did not make any attempt at all to communicate with us. Barely any of them even looked up as we were thrown in here.  
  
It measures five by three elven steps. I know, because in my concern about my legs, I have paced the length and width of the cell many times. There are ten of us in here, counting Tarí and myself. The sleeping space is where you drop and the feeding times are so irregular, you do not know whether you will stave to death, or burst from over eating.  
  
Everything they give us is eaten within seconds and anyone with scraps still on their plate may find themselves contesting for them. I can sense that many of the men here have been here a very long time.  
  
They are mostly human. There is another elf, but he has refused Tarí and I to come near him. He avoids our gazes and evades us if we try to come near him. The strange this is that he does not tell the other men that we are not men and are in fact female. There is a dwarf here also. He has thick, long, dark hair and a big beard. He hasn't talked much, but has made it clear that he does not wish to be near us. He also avoids the mysterious elf. Of course, elves and dwarfs are known not to get along with one another.  
  
I am have a sinking feeling that I may never see the trees or feel the grass beneath my feet again. Fresh air would be a blessing, the air is close and the men smell. Tarí is by my side constantly and I am thankful for her presence.  
  
**  
  
This morning, if you could call it that, the silent elf spoke to us. The men and dwarf had fallen asleep when the elf came slinking over. He drew back his hood and looked intently into each of our eyes.  
  
At first he said nothing, then he started to gibber in elvish about freedom, trees and old friends. Tarí and I let him rave on, as it seemed that he had not seen one of his kind for a long time. Then he fell silent and looked at the two of us.  
  
"You are not men." He stated, watching for our reactions carefully.  
  
"Yes, we posed as men to protect ourselves from our captors."  
  
"They were Uruk-Hai?" The strange elf asked. I was surprised by his odd question and nodded my head in reply. "So, Saruman has been breeding more of the foul creatures. How many?" The elf demanded of us. Tarí answered his question and for a while, the conversation halted.  
  
"You are from the realm of the White Lady?" He asked cautiously, as if he was afraid of angering us. His eyes were wide and darted between the two of us, never ceasing, never resting.  
  
"Yes," I replied shortly, not meaning to sound sharp, but the elf fell silent again. He opened his mouth a while later, as if to say something, but then closed it again. He sat there for a while, a range of emotions playing over his face. Finally, he slunk away to his corner and turned away from our gazes.  
  
**  
  
This morning we were moved from the men's cell and now we are confined in a cramped space together, and alone. The guard said nothing of why we have been moved, but he did take our cloaks and sneered as he left: "Give up your act, he knows that you are not male."  
  
Tarí and I were shocked, but unbraided our hair any way. I combed Tarí hair with my fingers, thinking of how Sauron, who was obviously the 'he' the guard had mentioned, could have got to know that we were hiding our identities.  
  
I stroked Tarí's golden hair, marveling at how perfect it had stayed. Apart from the odd stick, or leaf, her hair was only tangled. Tarí looked at me when I finished her hair.  
  
"I believe that the elf in our cell told Sauron." She said quietly, and then began to unbraid my hair.  
  
"Either that our Celahir, Orodreth, Bereth and the others have been tortured into revealing who we are."  
  
Tarí stopped unbraiding my hair abruptly and breathed a shaky breath. "Please don't say that." She whispered. I fell silent, biting back my gloomy thoughts. When Tarí combed my hair, I felt her hot tears on my back. When I turned, she turned away and would not look at me.  
  
"Tari," I said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder. She shivered under my touch, but welcomed the comforting hug I enveloped her in. We sat for some time, Tarí shoulders shaking, her hot tears of anger and weariness sliding down her pale cheeks.  
  
**  
  
This morning I was surprised by an Uruk-Hai guard, tall and well-built.  
  
"The Dark Lord will see you." He announced and I was grabbed roughly, surprised by the aggression in the guards movements. Tarí was left to wander her dreams, the guard careful not to disturb her. The guard was heavily cloaked and had an iron grip. My weak legs buckled as he forced me through a narrow corridor and up a stair of steep stairs. "Get up!" He rasped and I felt the sharp point of his sword on my back. I gripped the railing and pulled myself up the stairs willing myself to make it to the top.  
  
The guard huffed along behind me, and finally I made it to the top. Many corridors and rooms later, I was halted by a hard grip on my shoulder. I panted shallowly, trying the catch my breath after the hard climb. My legs ached furiously and black spots floated around my eyes.  
  
I stood, wavering on the spot, blocking out the intense pain. A door opened in front of me and Sauron appeared. On his finger gleamed the One Ring.  
  
"So it is true." I mumbled to myself, using all my strength to keep standing.  
  
"Get this lady a seat." Sauron demanded, I could hear his voice but it sounded very far away. "Can you not see she is weary? Make haste or it'll be your body hanging from the walls at dawn!"  
  
The guard departed hastily, and Sauron made towards me. My sight blurred and the ache in my legs intensified. "I have been waiting to see you, Ayssa ó Lórien."  
  
The sound of my name on his lips made me shudder and the slight movement caused my legs to give way.  
  
I looked up through heavy eyes to see Sauron bend down to lift me up. I fought, weakly, and then my eyes closed and I saw him no more.  
  
**  
  
I was woken by a pleasant surprise, much preferable to that of the hostile guard.  
  
"Wake up, meldis." A warm voice coaxed. My eyelids fluttered, a bright light temporarily blinding me.  
  
"Where am I?" I wondered aloud, confused as to who would be speaking Sindarin in such an evil land.  
  
"Dolen, for now." The voice replied. A pair of hands helped me sit, but I could not see through the bright haze.  
  
I wondered who I would be hidden from, then remembered my encounter with the Dark Lord.  
  
"Am I hidden from Sauron?" I asked, dazed. I still couldn't see the face of my comforter. "Who are you? Are you an elf?" I asked quietly.  
  
Suddenly, I could see with such clarity it was like a splash of cool water.  
  
"Alatáriel?" I asked in wonder. She smiled sadly and cupped my hand in her hand. She looked awfully weary, her golden hair that her proud head had once boasted hung limp. Her skin was nearly translucent and her eyes held hidden pain and horror.  
  
"Ayssa." She returned and stood. I sat, realising that I was lying on a comfortable bed. I looked at my Lady, confused.  
  
"We are weary, I see deep pain in your heart."  
  
"Hope is not lost yet," I said quietly, hanging my head. "Yet I feel like I can do nothing."  
  
Galadriel smiled, a smile tainted with sadness. Her smile did not touch her eyes, which held a haunted look. I noticed an odd thing about the White Lady. She seemed restrained in some way, like she could not completely connect with me.  
  
"You are held within a spell." I realised, sitting up a little straighter, reaching out a hand to push away the fine threads of magic. My hand passed through them and I pulled away, realising that I could not help her.  
  
"Has Sauron done this?" I asked gently. My Queen nodded and tears glinted on her eyelids in the light. "How long?"  
  
"I cannot remember a time when I was not held by the coldness of his iron fist." She replied, barely whispering.  
  
"Can you show me the trees again?" She asked, her voice breaking with emotion. She was weeping openly, tears rolling down her gaunt cheeks. I nodded and sat nearer to the White Lady, holding her head in my hands. I rested my brow against hers and used the magic given to me by her, through blood and many generations, to show her the trees I remember.  
  
Alatáriel gave a small shudder, and after I had finished, she stood up. A little colour had returned to her cheeks and she looked much happier. She stood proud and tall and there was an air about her that seemed she was better.  
  
"Sauron the Deceiver is clever in his plans." She said quietly, her voice stronger than before. "He has nearly wiped out the entire force of rebels. He uses the Palantír here to contact Saruman in Orthanc and by the day, they grow stronger in numbers. Saruman has been breeding more and more of his creation: Uruk-Hai. They are bred fighters; they do not weary easily and can travel for days with little food or rest. You know this, they were you captors."  
  
I nodded, knowing that when I had connected my mind with Galadriels, she had been able to see as she could without the spell Sauron had cast about her.  
  
"He has nearly won. What he plans to do after Middle Earth is his, I do not know. I cannot see into the hearts of others anymore and he is elusive when I attempt."  
  
"Is this world not already his?" I wondered aloud, standing to join the Lady at the window. She had dressed me in a simple cotton night dress. I felt the fabric absently, finding simple joy in the touch of the elven woven material. I looked about for my traveling cloak and other clothes but they were nowhere to be seen.  
  
"They have been burned." Galadriel said, as if she had read my thoughts.  
  
"Is this Middle Earth his yet?" I asked again, following her gaze to the dark land outside.  
  
A loud crash sounded and we both jumped. Galadriel frowned, the movement creasing her perfect brow. There was a definite change about her, her hair caught the light once again and her eyes were brighter, more alert.  
  
Two heavy doors, which were the entrance to the hidden room, opened and Sauron entered. I immediately felt a growing fear as his presence washed over my senses.  
  
"No, unfortunately there are still some rebels who refuse to back down. Sort of like the fleas that bite at a horse, they are nothing but an irritation and I plan to exterminate them."  
  
I settled my gaze on the doors behind Sauron, refusing to make eye contact.  
  
"I will be moving you." He said directly to me, studying me closely. "You've done something." He then said and moved closer. I recoiled and made a hasty retreat.  
  
Alatáriel moved to intervene. "She has done nothing. Leave her or it will be me you fight."  
  
Sauron sneered at her. "You? Do not joke, you could not stand against me." He moved around Galadriel, speaking words in the Black Speech, words that grated against my soul. Galadriel remained still, her legs refusing to move at her will.  
  
"You have done something, to her." He gestured towards Alatáriel.  
  
"Yes." I whispered, backing until I was against a wall. Sauron moved so close that his nose was nearly meeting mine own.  
  
"Well don't do it again." He said in a deadly voice, his eyes flashing with anger. He wore a long dark cloak, the hood pulled up, covering his face. His eyes were the only things that caught the light and I found myself caught in them, unable to look away.  
  
He then pulled back his hood and I was shocked. Before me stood Celeborn, Lord of Lórien. "My Lord?" I asked in amazement.  
  
"No!" Alatáriel broke in, still unable to move. "He can take the form of any being he has seen, male or female."  
  
Sauron sighed and pulled his hood back over his face. Once again it sunk into the shadowy darkness, his eyes glinting like steel in the light.  
  
"Take her away," He ordered and two guards, who stood outside the doors, rushed to comply.  
  
**  
  
"Where are you taking me?" I demanded of the guards as the dragged me along narrow corridors and down steep, winding staircases. My legs had given out long ago and there was no strength left in them to stand, let alone walk. Alatáriel had managed to heal them partly and so there was no longer any pain, only a lingering weakness.  
  
"To the cells where no one gets let out." One sneered, giving my arm a hard squeeze. "You'll rot down there." He promised, giving me a toothless grin.  
  
"You'll have company, don't worry." The other said, his pace quickening slightly. "Only three of the most dangerous prisoners we've ever had. You'll probably die before you have a chance to rot."  
  
"What about Tarí?" I asked, biting back a gasp as the air grew suddenly chill.  
  
"Oh, she'll be fine, do you worry. She'll go back with your friends and enjoy the torture as much as they have been!" The first guard cackled, nudging me with a sharp elbow.  
  
We came to an abrupt halt before a dark cell. I could just make out three shapes in the darkness. Keys jangled and suddenly, the shortest of the three let out a growl and jumped to their feet. The second guard drew his sword and held it at me throat.  
  
"Just try it, scum, and you'll only have the other two to stare at for eternity and the smell of her corpse to endure!"  
  
The prisoner sat heavily and grumbled. The guard opened the cell and shoved me roughly in. "Have fun with her, boys." He jeered and locked the cell tight again. I didn't look up until the sounds of the footsteps died away and there was nothing left but the sound of a lone drip somewhere in the gloom.  
  
I felt a sharp point in the pocket of the night dress. I pulled the object out, and realizing it was a stone that could be used for light, I quickly spoke the spell for light and held in front of me in defense.  
  
My companions said nothing and only haunted faces of the man, Aragorn, the prince, Legolas, and the dwarf, Gimli stared back at me in the gloom, dimly lit by the stone.  
  
************  
  
I'm so sorry that took so long, but I'm off to Aussie for a week so I thought I would give you something to read while I'm gone. I've changed a whole lot from my original draft so I hope you like it! Please review, and note that I'm not doing a spelling or grammar check on this so please forgive me for any intrusive errors! 


	5. Prisoner

Disclaimer: I don't own these little bundles of joy, nor do I own lord of the rings.  
  
In the Shadows  
  
Chapter five – Prisoner  
  
**  
  
I cannot believe that I am sharing a prison cell with Aragorn, Prince Legolas, and the dwarf Gimli. This is the last place I hoped we would meet! They have been quite welcoming; they have probably tired of each other.  
  
I can tell by the smell that they have been here a long time. The guards have not returned I have estimated that I've been here a good three days. The cell is quite large and very dimly lit. I only used the light stone for the first few minutes of my being here, and then I extinguished the light so I could adjust to the gloom.  
  
Within minutes of being in the cell, I was shivering and wet. The floor is damp and the walls are wet with water from an unknown source. I asked the others of this.  
  
"This prison cell is built under a lake." Aragorn replied gruffly, sounded annoyed at having been disturbed. 'Disturbed from what?' I wondered, refusing to let myself anger. 'Disturbed from the deep darkness and horrors of your own mind?'  
  
"It's a trap." He went on, not looking up. "You think, since you are in the deepest, darkest dungeon, that no one will notice you if you escape. That is true, since most people sent here are doomed to die so no one ever checks on them, but the prison cell is designed to keep people in, or kill them if they escape."  
  
"You've learnt a lot." I commented.  
  
Legolas looked up and looked me in the eye. "You hear a lot of things down here." The look in his eyes made me shiver, and that movement caused my whole body to start shaking with the cold. We sat in silence, and I had only just arrived.  
  
"The world is dim outside." I said quietly, hoping to start conversation again. The silences that stretch here are unnervingly quiet. They contrast to the silences held with Tarí, as they were comfortable, as we knew each other well.  
  
There was no reply to my comment, except for a rumble form Gimli. Soon after, I heard snores and realized that he was asleep. I looked at the other two but Aragorn was stroking a necklace he wore and Legolas was staring at the ceiling, his mouth moving. I watched him for a while and realized that he was counted the bricks in the ceiling above.  
  
"I've seen the White Lady." I said into the silence to find comfort in the sound of my voice. "She is well."  
  
This attracted some attention; Aragorn looked up and searched my face. "Is she really?"  
  
I nodded my reply. Aragorn looked at me for a little longer, then he put his head down and closed his eyes. I heard his breathing slow and heard him fall into a fitful slumber.  
  
"Mae govannen, Legolas" I said sarcastically to the silence. "Well met, indeed." My mother would have killed me for speaking so to royalty, but I was so fed up of these sulking silences. I was, and still am, sick of this world.  
  
**  
  
This morning I told my story to whoever would listen. Gimli listened for most of it and growled occasionally in anger when I told of the bad parts. I told them all about Bereth and the other elves. I made them listen to our journey with the Uruk-Hai and how they treated us. My voice caught in my throat when I came to my torture and spoke no more.  
  
There was a short silence. Again I felt uncomfortable and shivered slightly, looking around.  
  
"And?" Someone asked quietly. I looked up to see Legolas' keen eyes finding me through the darkness. "What happened then?" Aragorn asked, startling me. I stared back at them in shock.  
  
"Pardon me," I said after the shock had subsided. "I did not think you were listening."  
  
"We were" Gimli rumbled, sounding rather irritated. "Now finished the story, we're impatient to hear the end! Forgive us for not making it known that we were listening, sitting 'round with these two louts makes you do it."  
  
I smiled and heard Aragorn snort. I could just make out Legolas hitting Gimli playfully on the arm and heard Gimli's protest. I was glad someone still had a sense of humour.  
  
I found the light stone and turned away from them, light the stone with a touch of magic and showing them the scars on my back. I heard Aragorn and Legolas inhale sharply. Gimli rumbled something but I could not catch it.  
  
"What else did they do?" Legolas asked me, urging me to go on. I did not want to trouble them, but found myself caught in the stern gazes of the three travellers.  
  
"They—" I faltered, looking at them again. "They broke my legs." I felt an old ache start as soon as I mentioned my legs. I stood up, leaving the stone on the ground, and started pacing the cell. "They are cruel to my kind," I muttered, half to myself. My gaze found Legolas for a second and he looked away. "But they are not savage. They respect their dead and are loyal to those they serve."  
  
Gimli snorted. "Hardly likely." He grumbled. Aragorn sighed and stood up, stretching his arms upwards. I could hear the bones in his back crack with the effort. He yawned, shook his head and came over to me.  
  
"I am sorry for the rude introduction." He said, placing a hand on my cheek and pressing his forehead against mine. "You have been through a lot, yet you are still strong." He released me and studied me closely. "You know of how we came to be here?" He asked. "I feel it is our turn to tell a tale."  
  
I took a seat and moved the light stone closer to the others so I could make out their faces. I was shocked at how tired and weary they looked. I hadn't studied their faces closely when I first arrived, but when I had the chance, it was disturbing. I had seen the three travellers before when they passed through Lórien whilst on their journey to the Land of Shadows. Then, they looked tired, but in a different sense. They had looked healthy and nearly cheerful, compared to what they are now.  
  
"You heard of the War of Helm's Deep." Aragorn stated, and I nodded in reply. The war was common knowledge.  
  
"Yet you only know an observers view. An observer who came after the war and reported what destruction he saw around him. The war was awful. We expected to win, after news came that half the numbers of Saruman's army had been destroyed, but it was not so.  
  
Aragorn paused and looked at Legolas, then Gimli. They said nothing, only stared at the cell floor in front of them.  
  
"We received assistance from the elves." I stiffened, I knew what would come next and even though I already knew the elves sent by Elrond of Rivendell has perished, I did not want to hear the news again.  
  
"Haldir lead them, he was killed." Aragorn said, with no emotion in his voice. "Forgive my callousness, I have recounted this story many times to the mouth piece of Sauron who wishes to hear the story again and again, purely for his own amusement."  
  
"I knew the manner of Haldir's death," I said shakily, emotion welling up inside of me. Haldir and I were friends, not as close as others I knew of, but close enough for his death to hurt deeply. "The Uruk-Hai commander took me for questioning, Haldir's helmet was in his tent. I saw his death."  
  
The three travellers looked confused.  
  
"You must be mistaken," Legolas said, his voice hoarse from silence. "Haldir wore no helmet to battle. It must have been the helmet of another elf."  
  
I was bewildered by this news and could not think of an explanation for what I had seen and what they were telling me.  
  
"It WAS Haldir!" I protested, standing to pace the cell. "I felt it was him, I felt him die!" The pain came back to me then suddenly, my lungs contracted and I could hardly breathe. I gasped and held a hand out to the wall to steady myself.  
  
Aragorn came over and helped me stand. "Relax, it will pass." It did, but only when I could forget the screams I had heard in Haldir's vision. I felt tired after remembering the vision and slumped to the floor. I felt extremely dizzy and could feel myself losing consciousness.  
  
"It could not have been Haldir's helmet." Aragorn said, his voice sounding far away. "You must have been mistaken."  
  
I couldn't understand why I would make such a mistake, but as my vision weakened, the words 'Sauron the Deceiver' floating across my thoughts.  
  
**  
  
When I regained sight, the cell was dark and the travellers were conversing quietly. "You think she's gone mad?" Gimli rumbled in the dark. I listened carefully to Legolas and Aragorn's comments as they were talking very quietly.  
  
"How could she have 'seen' Haldir's death?" Aragorn wondered out loud. I felt like screaming, did these people not know of elven gifts? Surely Legolas would!  
  
"She could have dreamt it?" Legolas offered. Gimli snorted. "No, she's seeing things, either that or someone's messing with her head."  
  
I remembered thinking of Sauron making me see Haldir in the vision and wondered if he could have something to do with it.  
  
"There are elven gifts," Aragorn said quietly. I could see him, out of the corner of my eye, glancing in my direction to see if I was awake. "Rare gifts of foresight and other mental abilities, but they have not been seen in any elven offspring since the births of Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel."  
  
"No," Legolas disagreed, I felt like cheering. "Gifts such as those are kept to family knowledge only, some corrupt elves like to use the gifts for their own use. It is possible that she has a gift, but unlikely."  
  
Aragorn then held a finger to his lips. "She's awake" I heard him mutter.  
  
"How much have you heard?" He asked me directly. I knew there was no point in pretending I was still asleep so I rolled over and sat up.  
  
"I'm not mad." I said firmly, before standing to stretch my legs out. "I do have a gift, passed down from my mothers cousin." I said defensively.  
  
"Well that explains a lot," Aragorn said. "But who is this cousin of your mothers?" I looked at Legolas, hoping to see recognition in his eyes.  
  
"Guess." I said, angry that none of them had seen the resemblance between Galadriel and I. When no one offered a name, I huffed and sent a powerful mental image of the Lady into their minds. There was an instant silence that would have made me shiver if I wasn't so worked up.  
  
"Fine" I said angrily, turning away. "I'm going for a walk, let me know when you want to talk." I stormed to the farthest reaches of the cell and sat facing the corner, feeling like a naughty elven child being punished.  
  
**  
  
This silence is unforgiving. I have spent DAYS in royal court that have been for interesting that this cell. I can see why Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli were so quiet when I first arrived. No one has come down here since I arrived four days ago. My stomach rumbles from time to time, but I am used to feeling hungry.  
  
"Food comes once weekly" Gimli stated, hearing my stomach groaning in hunger.  
  
"How do you tell which is day and night?" I mumbled through my knees, which my head was resting on.  
  
"Legolas notes light difference and sound difference and marks the passing days on the wall over there."  
  
I felt foolish and still do. I have been very self involved the past day and haven't thought of anyone but myself. It is misery being locked in here. I don't know how they can stand it! I have never been held prisoner before and the lack of fresh air is making me so sad.  
  
I have a strong feeling that I will rot down here, even though my dreams tell me otherwise.  
  
Sauron the Deceiver.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hello! Sorry, once again, for the lack of updates. I seriously thought that I had this one posted, but I found, to my horror, that this chapter hadn't even been completed!  
  
Hey! Blame it on limited internet and computer access! Please R and R? 


	6. Pensive

Disclaimer: Don't own lotr.....never will and don't plan to...too much paperwork.  
  
In the Shadows  
  
Chapter Six – Pensive  
  
**  
  
They still haven't figured out who my mother's cousin is. Typical. I expected......I don't know what I expected, but it was a lot more than this. After Aragorn recounted what had happened at Helms Deep, they all fell into a strange silence, and have remained that way since.  
  
I wondered if the travellers knew each other so well something almost like a mental link had occurred; they knew each other's exact thoughts so do not waste their energy talking. I find this strange since they are not kin, just close friends. I have not seen anything like this. Sometimes Gimli opens his mouth to talk, but closes it again and only makes eye contact with Aragorn and Legolas. They sometimes nod, or make noises of agreement and then fall into the long silence again.  
  
The silence is making me feel incredibly uncomfortable. I have never been so close to so many males for a long time so I do not know how to act or talk around them. I've tried talking to them already today, but they are uncommunicative. The silence leaves me at the mercy of my own thoughts and I never really thought about how deeply one can think when left with nothing else to do. More than once since I've been in this cell have I pondered how Sauron could become so powerful so quickly. Another question I've exhausted is: Why are we here in this Middle Earth?  
  
I have often dreamt about the Undying Lands, as one tends to do when the present is full of unspeakable horrors. My dreams are frightening. I dread visions and try to block them when I feel one coming on. It never works of course although I can refuse to make sense of what I see. These days my visions come few and far between, though I've had at least three since I've been here. My visions are full of screaming, screams that chill my already frozen body to the bone. I see a great battle and often see a tall dark figure. I have reasoned that he cannot be Sauron since this figure does not feel like him. There is no sense of dread or fear around this figure; he is a welcome character in my visions.  
  
I have begun to notice the subtle changes in light that Legolas notices. The noises from above are faint, but I can still hear just about everything that is said. This morning: an argument between an officer and guard about who Sauron received the ring from, a whispered conversation between a prisoner and a friendly "dark" elf, a prisoner receiving a hefty kick for being impolite to a guard and a guard boasting about how many elves he had killed. The conversations, no matter how depressing, are a welcome break in the cruel silence.  
  
**  
  
I asked Legolas how many days I had been here. He replied: "Ten, as far as I can tell."  
  
I cannot believe it. The hunger and cold is making my mind numb, I cannot think of any intelligible thing to say except complain about how hungry I am, and I dare not do that. The food came yesturday, I think, and it was the foulest, but most welcome, thing I've ever tasted. It consisted of moldy bread, water so thick I nearly didn't drink it thinking 'surely this must be poisoned!', rock-hard cheese and rotten oranges.  
  
It all came with a goblet with gems laid in it. It was half full with a dark, musky smelling liquid. The guards grinned toothless grins when I inspected it with interest.  
  
"Be gentlemen and let the lady drink it first" One roared with laughter, enjoying our desperate, hungry looks. His partner glared at Gimli and mumbled something in his direction. I didn't pay any attention, just looked hopefully at the food.  
  
"Eat up now, our master wouldn't want you dying on him. Think how inconvenient that would be!"  
  
They then left, laughing at our expense. I waited patiently until they were out of earshot, then quickly divided up the food and tossed a fair share to each of the travellers. I looked at the goblet with some interest, but didn't drink any of the strange liquid. Instead, I put it on the floor and sat behind it. I felt my way to the light stone and lit it, closing my eyes against the sudden brightness.  
  
I looked at my share of food dismally. It would do nothing to, not even dent, my hunger. The cheese and bread looked deadly and I wondered if I would be better off without.  
  
"You'd best eat it all now." Gimli said gently, watching me as I stared at the food. "We've tried not eating, and ended up nearly unconscious with hunger. They had to feed us proper food then, but not after we'd suffered three days of absolute agony."  
  
Legolas ate slowly and carefully, leaving not even a crumb behind. "Don't think about rationing either, doesn't work. The food is barely eatable now. If you try to save it until next time, you'll probably die from food poisoning. Last time we tried to ration, Aragorn didn't wake up for two days after eating the last of the orange."  
  
I ate and can still taste the foul food in my mouth. The orange was sweet in a sickening way. I tried not to retch as I ate the fruit. I nearly tossed it to Gimli who had already devoured his, but decided that I should eat all that I could. The bread and cheese were nearly impossible, but I managed. The water nearly brought everything up, but I forced it down, feeling awful after I had.  
  
After the foul food, I picked up the goblet, looking hopefully at the others. They all stood up at the same time.  
  
"Don't!" They cried, Legolas, who was faster than the others, ran over and knocked the goblet from my hand. The dark liquid spilt all over the ground and the goblet rolled away into an unlit corner.  
  
I must have looked awfully confused, for Legolas' face instantly softened and he came and sat next to me.  
  
"It's poison." He said, then, realizing that the whole meal had been like poison, smiled and corrected himself. "It's real poison, it'll kill you if you drink it."  
  
I looked at Aragorn and Gimli who had been standing, alert and concerned. "Let me guess," I said, feeling weak. "You tried it?"  
  
None of them looked amused. "Gimli did." Aragorn said, sounding sad. He slumped to the floor, now that the threat had passed, and hung his head. "He nearly died."  
  
"Fever lasted days. He was taken away by a dark elf and returned a week later. The guards kept going on about how he'd only had a drop and how the suffering would have stopped if he'd drunk the whole thing." Legolas said quietly.  
  
No one spoke after that. After a while, I picked up the light stone and extinguished its light and felt my hope extinguish with it.  
  
**  
  
Today two guards came. One cleared away the food scraps, and the other took Gimli away.  
  
**  
  
Two days have passed. Aragorn looks feverish and Legolas is dreadfully pale. I feel awful. Gimli hasn't returned.  
  
**  
  
I wish I had heard what the guard said to Gimli when he came to give us the food. Had Gimli done something wrong before I came here? It feels colder, if it's possible. I wish I could help Aragorn, he looks so ill.  
  
I wonder if Sauron realises that Aragorn is heir to the throne of Gondor. I remember Lady Galadriel saying something about it once when I was with my mother in her company. It was just after the Fellowship had left Lothlórien.  
  
I have tried asking Legolas and Aragorn about Gimli but Aragorn was too sick to answer and Legolas didn't show any sign of hearing any of my words. I was too cold to move so instead of trying to do anything I let my dreams come.  
  
**  
  
I dreamt of a world without shadow. I dreamt of a land without flaw. I dreamt of a people without cruelty and or animals who knew no pain. In this land, I was happy. I floated through it, enjoying the sun on the hills and the shadows made by the trees. The children of the land were happy, they were not human, hobbit, elf or dwarf, but all three at the same time.  
  
They spoke a funny language that I didn't understand. I tried to talk to them, but they smiled at my foreign words and looked even happier.  
  
The adults tended their thriving gardens and smiled. They laughed with each other, never at each other. Everyone was in charge of themselves. They were in peace and harmony with nature and each other.  
  
I spent days in this land, quickly falling in love with the simple beauty of a flower or an insect.  
  
One day, I saw a shadow in the distant hills. It looked threatening. I felt scared. I looked at the others, but they couldn't see the threat. They kept tending their gardens and minding their children, and caring for the animals. The shadow grew bigger. Every time I looked away, it grew at an alarming rate. I tried to watch it, but something enchanted me into a sleep and the shadow grew and grew until it was nearly upon us.  
  
I screamed at the wonderfully peaceful people, to warn them, to warn them away from the evil shadow. They just smiled and twittered in their funny language and kept looking after their families.  
  
The shadow grew; devouring the very land before me.....it was upon me.....suffocating....restricting. I tried to fight, but I felt so dreadfully tired. Wind roared in my ears and I could barely see. I saw the outlines of the peaceful people. They were sleeping, tossing fitfully in their grass beds. They usually slept so peacefully, looking happy as the slept, but the shadow made them see awful things. Their faces twisted in pain as they experienced hate and cruelty.  
  
A red sun rose. A sun that was an eye. The eye of Sauron.  
  
A dreadful voice spoke inside my head.  
  
"I.....seeeeee.....yooouuuu"  
  
**  
  
I jerked out of my dream, panting heavily, my heart beating wildly in my chest. Aragorn looked better and was watching me, looking concerned. Legolas was leaning over something that I could barely make out in the gloom. Then I realised that the something was Gimli.  
  
I stood shakily and found the light stone in the pocket of my nightdress, the one I was wearing when I woke up in Lady Galadriels room. I spoke the words for a light spell and the stone began to shimmer dimly.  
  
I looked at it in horror and realised that the stones power was waning. I closed my eyes and spoke the words again, concentrating on strengthening the light. When I opened my eyes, the stone was shining brightly again.  
  
I heaved a sigh of relief, but knew that the stones power would not last much longer.  
  
I walked over and knelt next to Gimli. As soon as I did, I instantly regretting it. Gimli was a mess.  
  
**  
  
Gimli's injuries are serious, but I can tell that the creature that did this to him wanted him to live, even if he is to be stuck down here for eternity. That gives me some hope, but I know Gimli will be in unspeakable pain.  
  
Legolas ignored me when I asked when Gimli had been returned. He gestured roughly to the warm water and bandages the guards thoughtfully left behind. I felt like screaming in frustration: "What do you want from us?!"  
  
I have bandaged Gimli's injuries as well as I can, but he'll have no relief from the pain that will plague him until he recovers, if he ever really recovers.  
  
After I had attended to Gimli, I sat down in front of Legolas and Aragorn and demanded that they listen to me.  
  
"Has this happened before?" I demanded, watching their faces to see if they were really listening.  
  
"Yes" Aragorn grumbled in reply. He looked pained and his eyes wouldn't settle. They flickered between my face, the floor and Gimli's unconscious form in the corner.  
  
"To who?" I asked, watching Aragorn carefully. His face was giving a lot away. He clearly did not wish to reply, or talk at all, but I persisted. I needed to know.  
  
"Gimli. It has always happened to Gimli."  
  
I was shocked. Aragorn was implying that this had happened more than once.  
  
"How many times?" I asked breathlessly.  
  
"This is the third." Aragorn replied, this time with no emotion in his face or tone. I could see in his eyes, which were illuminated by the waning strength of the light stone, pain and horror.  
  
"Why?" I whispered. I was terrified of his reply, but felt that if I knew, I would know what to expect if they came for me.  
  
"He—"  
  
"He killed a guard and tried to knife Sauron." Legolas broke in angrily. He looked dangerously angry; there was a strange glint in his eyes.  
  
"Is that enough for you? Can you stop questioning now?" He had stood up and was advancing in my direction. I stood as well and backed away, holding my hands out in front of me.  
  
"Yes, I just wanted—"  
  
"Will you ever be content? Why can't you just leave us alone for a while? Why must you always talk?" He backed me against the wall and leaned right in towards me, his fists balled.  
  
"Why can't you just shut up?" He demanded, reaching up to shake me. I was absolutely terrified. I didn't know what to do. I certainly could not strike him, as he was a prince. I looked away from his penetrating gaze.  
  
"Just LEAVE us ALONE!" He yelled in my face, his face turning red with rage. I immediately realised that he was desperate to let loose all his rage and energy. Sitting idle makes just about anyway stir crazy.  
  
I pushed my hands against his chest lightly and spoke soothingly in elvish; hoping to calm him down enough to get away, not that there was any place to hide. I could see Aragorn out of the corner of my eye, looking sad. He hadn't even TRIED to help me.  
  
"Come on, Legolas." I whispered in Sindarin. "Calm down, you know I meant no harm. What was done to Gimli cannot be undone."  
  
Legolas looked defiant, but his rage was crumbling to reveal deep sorrow.  
  
"But why? Why us?" He whimpered. He then began to cry. I held him as he let out just some of his sorrow. He didn't sob, just cried until he could cry no more.  
  
**  
  
They came for me this morning, what horrors await me, I dare not guess.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Another update! Hehe, sorry for being so lazy, I really don't have much computer or internet access. Please r&r! 


	7. False

Disclaimer: It isn't mine. Sorry to disappoint, but I can't really do much about it.  
  
In the Shadows  
  
Chapter Seven – False  
  
  
  
They came for me this morning. At first, since I was groggy with lack of food and frozen, I thought they might be coming to let us out. No chance of that ever happening. I am now in another cell, a smaller but more comfortable one, one with a window looking out onto the Dead Land.  
  
The guards who took me away were the so-called 'dark elves', and they frightened me. I never really gave much thought to the whole idea of elves helping Sauron to capture their own people. They were silent and sullen; their movements were stiff and almost hesitant. I could see no trace of the graceful movements that come naturally to elves.  
  
I did not recognize them as elves of Rivendell or Lothlórien and hadn't seen many Mirkwood elves to make judgment. I contemplated asking them, but just as I opened my mouth, they made a sudden stop and threw me roughly into the cell. The climb had been short, though my legs ached furiously after being immobile for so long. One of the guards lingered for a little longer, hissing in common to his partner that he was 'locking up' when he inquired why he was lingering.  
  
The guard then slid the metal barred door back and entered, his steps swift and light. He knelt in front of me and pulled a small cake from under his cloak. He pressed it into my hand, then unfastened his cloak, and took off his thin overshirt. He gave that to me also, smiled hesitantly and turned to leave.  
  
"Wait!" I whispered urgently. He turned back, a worried look on his face. I knew that I couldn't make him stay long otherwise he would get in trouble, and that I wouldn't see another kind face again, but I needed to thank him. I thanked him quietly in elvish, my eyes misting with tears that I was desperate to shed. I blinked quickly and bowed as well as I could in my sitting position.  
  
The guard was alarmed when he saw me bow and immediately came over and hauled me to my feet. I looked fearfully at his face, expecting to see a mask of anger over the guard's fine elvish features, and was surprised to see a look of fear in his eyes.  
  
"You must NEVER do that again, understand?" He hissed urgently, his hand on my arm gripping tightly. "The only person you bow to is the Dark Lord. Never, EVER be caught bowing to anyone but him." His elvish was spoken in a harsh whisper, the words losing the rhythm and song-likeness. I was immediately aware that he was not supposed to be speaking elvish.  
  
The guard then released me, and my weak legs collapsed beneath me. The guard yanked the door back into place with quick efficiency and strode away without a backwards glance. I could feel the fear rolling off him as he left, and this made me wonder at his loyalty to Sauron. This thought led me directly into another: What would Sauron do to him if the guards' loyalty were not true?  
  
  
  
I have slipped in and out of consciousness continuously over what I have estimated to be five days. I've noted the daylight as best I could, I have a window now, but the view outside is not inviting. The land is barren and poisoned; I cannot begin to imagine what it must be like to live in such a place forever. The walls of my prison have kept me protected from the outside, and I dare not to hope for better. The window only opens the width of my wrist, not that I have any intentions of escaping. The new cell is at least three storeys above ground level and I do not think my immortal bones would not be crushed by such an impact. Not that I could squeeze through the tiny gap the window makes anyhow.  
  
The guards have not returned, and the small cake is in its last few crumbs. At first, I was hoping that it would be a crude imitation of lembas bread, but the few mouthfuls the cake could give barely kept me strong enough to sit, let alone stand. My joints ache from lying so, my back twisted and my head lolling. I can tell that my sleep is fitful; to fall asleep in one corner and awaken in another shakes me; I have always been a calm, peaceful sleeper.  
  
The noises of industrialism float up to my sensitive ears. The callous sounds of mass production of weapons makes me shiver. Who is left to make a stand against Sauron? I remembered about Gimli trying to knife Sauron, as Legolas had said. I have wondered, often, if I could do something to help, but my only ally is Lady Galadriel, but she is as just a prisoner as I am.  
  
I remember our meeting as if it could have been a dream. Days pass by so slowly, I often find myself wandering the dream realms, in search of a thing long lost. I sense a hint of magic in the air around me, but whenever I look for it, the magic dissipates, leaving me lost again.  
  
  
  
I dreamt of a time long past, of the day when I was promised to a young soldier who was to fight in a battle long since ended. Our parents were old friends. Besides, my parents were keen to marry me off, as I was a young and rebellious youngling who irritated my parents greatly. Our family was very proper, and it was considered improper to have the desire of a bow an arrow as a young female elf. After three sons, my mother was overjoyed to have borne a female child, though she was soon regretting her jubilation.  
  
We had been friends a short while before our parents decided we should marry. I was not resentful, only saddened by the thoughts of moving from the home I loved so dearly.  
  
It was his idea. His name was Melidar and he was a young elf from Mirkwood. When I married Melidar, he had to travel back to his family and present me. This was when I met his two brothers, and later on, my last companions, Orodreth and Bereth. They regarded me with an air of hostility. They openly sneered at my magical abilities, but well away from the all-hearing ears of the elders.  
  
It was a twist of fate that I should travel and be captured with my beloved's brothers, the very people who despised me once they set eyes on me. They did not wish to see their younger brother married to an "arrogant princess" from Lórien. Their comments dug deep, but I was always happy around Melidar, as it grieved him to see me less than that.  
  
My dreaming revealed things I had hidden away, fearful that they would make me weak. I dreamt of things long since forgotten in the wake of more urgent matters. We were attacked by a band of men from the east. They looked like outlaws to my eyes, but I later learned that they had broken away from their army, unwilling to lose their lives in a war that was not meant for them. We were traveling back to my home, and Melidar and I were just about to part for the first time since our marriage. We had arranged for my belongings to be moved to a place, which had always been Melidar's favourite spot for thinking. It was not far form the palace in Mirkwood, from where King Tharanduil reigned supreme.  
  
Melidar and I were accompanied by Orodreth, Bereth and two guards to see us safely off; of course I had travelled with two trusted guards from my homeland as well. It was just before we were to part, our farewells had been made, and promises of a fine feast to celebrate my return had been given when a hail of arrows burst from the surrounding trees. Melidar and I were unharmed, but the archers had killed one of my guards and seriously wounded a guard of Mirkwood.  
  
Melidar immediately swung from his horse, Orodreth and Bereth closed in around me to protect me from the arrows. I was mildly irritated. Being naturally physically active, I had practised with my brothers when they trained in the arts and skills of fighting. I was never allowed a bow of my own, yet I was presented with a silver dagger with gems laid in its hilt by my eldest brother, before he left to chase a human girl with whom he had fallen in love. My dagger was at the ready, but the two brothers of Melidar wouldn't not move to let me fight. Melidar himself was firing arrow after arrow, in unison with the arrows from the two guards, of Mirkwood and of Lórien, hoping to fell the attackers before they could inflict mortal wounds. Then, the band of men spurted forth from the forest, the numbers uncountable. Orodreth and Bereth left for some time, unable to fight from their positions. I leapt from the horse and made a kill, but I was not quick enough to block the sword of one clever man. The blade found its way between my ribs, desperate to find my heart. He mouth bit at my neck hungrily and his hands violated my body. Melidar turned and saw this, but I lost consciousness before he could strike.  
  
When I awoke, I was back in Mirkwood, and Melidar was dead. He had died protecting me from further harm, hence the resentment from his two elder brothers. I was swiftly returned to Lórien and no more was spoken of the matter. His family ordered a closed funeral.  
  
I was not invited.  
  
  
  
The dreams bring painful memories to mind. Melidar was the gentlest elf I had ever met. I did not love him for long before his was taken, but my trust in love was shaken. This happened many, many years ago, yet I now feel the grief I prohibited myself to feel after Melidar's death.  
  
Two guards came for me this morning, taking me for a short walk to Sauron's chambers. I was ordered to address him as "Lord of Middle Earth" but I refused, not even looking at him when he addressed me. This angered him somewhat tremendously, and he cast me out of his chambers before long.  
  
I was not allowed to see Lady Galadriel, and though I felt her presence when I was being questioned, I could not see her anywhere.  
  
  
  
I have not been returned to the cell of Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli. Though I was allowed a brief visit to Tarí and two others of our original group. I chose Orodreth and Bereth, the memory of Melidar's death still fresh in my mind.  
  
The guard's keep reminding me that this was a 'favour' Sauron was allowing me. I was allowed an hour with each person, and it was cause for great jubilation, until I first saw them. Tarí was very much like Lady Galadriel when I first saw her here. Her beautiful hair hung limp, and she was very skinny. She had been put to work weaving and fixing under garments for the creatures who served in Sauron's army. She was overjoyed to see a familiar face, and the time passed too quickly. I let Tarí talk, sick to death of my own thoughts, but she was feeling exactly the same. We talked as fast as we could, but this only made the time pass even quicker. It seemed like minutes, and suddenly Tarí was been jostled away, a needle and thread and a garment that needed repairing thrust into her hands.  
  
She looked so sick, that it broke my heart to leave her there.  
  
I requested that I see my next two together, for what I needed to say to Bereth and Orodreth could not be repeated in the same way. They looked relieved to see me at first, which surprised me, but they must have noted this as they quickly returned to their usual scowls.  
  
"Bereth," I started nervously. "You look well, how are you?" Bereth, always the nicer of the two, smiled and replied that he was well. Orodreth's expression remained unchanged.  
  
"I was granted a 'favour' by Sauron, he allowed me to visit three of my traveling companions in hope to earn information from me. You must be wondering why I chose you two."  
  
Bereth nodded his agreement. Orodreth remained still.  
  
"I have many dreams of late, some of long ago. Many of them are painful to me." I said, watching the two Mirkwood elves closely. A range of emotions played over Bereth's features as he correctly guessed what I meant. Orodreth recoiled angrily.  
  
"Go, you slave-whore" The words were cruel to my ears. "Tell your precious Sauron that we won't be saying anything about anyone!"  
  
I sat back, struggling to stay calm. The two elves had been put to work in an armoury, and the heat was making me feel dizzy. Bereth put his hand on Orodreth's arm and spoke quietly to him, quiet enough so that I couldn't hear what he was saying.  
  
"Melidar meant a lot to me, and I don't know if you two appreciated that." I said as calmly as I could. "I know we will never get along, not as we should. But please, accept my plea to dissolve this hatred between us."  
  
Bereth and Orodreth sat in silence, their faces hard. They did not say a thing.  
  
  
  
My visit to Melidar's brothers has left my mind reeling. Sauron ordered me back to my original cell with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli after my little 'jaunt', as he put it. They were unwelcoming, as they had when I first met them, but they looked visibly relieved and voiced their concerns.  
  
"These two log-head thought you were dead, lass." Gimli rumbled, looking much better than he had when I had left. I was so relieved to see kind faces that I nearly wept. I hugged Gimli briefly, and I could tell he was surprised by the gesture.  
  
"Aw, no need to get emotional, girl. We were here when you left and we're still here now. Now tell us a story to refresh our dusty minds."  
  
I told them about my 'visit' to Sauron and seeing Tarí, Bereth and Orodreth again. Legolas listened with interest when I told the three of them about my dreams revealing Melidar, who I didn't know I had loved and married until the day before.  
  
"Bereth and Orodreth, my two most trusted friends. They came with you?" He asked, his voice soft with amazement. "I thought them to be dead, along with half of the palace staff."  
  
I shook my head, and Legolas looked a little happier, as if a thought that had been plaguing him had been satisfied. I looked at Aragorn. He looked so weary, the skin of his face hanging loosely from his cheekbones.  
  
"You are unwell." I stated, and moved over to see what was wrong, but Aragorn waved me away.  
  
"I am fine, just tired with relief of your safety. We heard screams down here. Screams of someone getting tortured. Legolas could not tell whether those screams were of your throat, so we held our breaths. Five days passed, and the screams were no more. We feared the worst." He said quietly.  
  
I smiled, for the second time. I was warmed that they worried for me. In the dim light, I saw the three hunched figures, all thinking miserable thoughts about their current situation.  
  
When I remember the look on Tar's face when she first saw me, I smile again. I have misplaced the light stone, and this saddens me. It was a sign of my hope, lying dormant until ignited by strong will. The darkness absorbs all thoughts, sucking them away greedily. After fifteen days with the sun on my shoulders in the morning, the darkness of this cell reminds me of horrors I thought long forgotten.  
  
"It haunts you, doesn't it?" Gimli said earlier, when I looked at the dimming light in dismay. Eerie shadows slip across the floor and dreams come to mind. I hope I do not remember anything else tonight.  
  
  
  
Lady Galadriel   
  
The view from the room Sauron had given her was not much, but Galadriel was glad for her own room, away from Sauron's advances. She knew that he still wanted her power, she had seen, briefly, into his heart and recognised love. How could he have come to love her? Was it her rebellion earlier? Was it her wisdom? Surely, Galadriel thought, Sauron would not want to consort with an Elf.  
  
Yet, he had tried, and he had taken Galadriel for his own, yet she was not his for the taking. Her mind, her secrets remained hidden, only the upper level of her sub-conscious was available for him to read. Galadriel was glad for the girl, Ayssa. She had helped Galadriel regain some of her mental composure, and she hoped Sauron would let her speak with her again.  
  
But Sauron was angry with Ayssa. He wanted to know why he hadn't recognised her power. Galadriel believed that Sauron was not as powerful as he pretended to be, only yesterday had she caught Sauron cursing his magic for not aiding him in a simple food preparation spell.  
  
Galadriel rose from the bed that was so comfortable it made her feel uncomfortable. She walked to the large windows that opened out onto the arid, desolate land of Mordor. She saw below prisoners, elves, men and other folk, all busy doing something. She observed a group of prisoners trying to build a garden.  
  
"To build a garden, you need life." Galadriel spoke softly, her voice reverberating in the dry air. "In this land, there is nothing but death."  
  
A door opened behind her, and Galadriel closed her weary eyes. She knew that it could only be Sauron, her captor.  
  
"Together, we can give this land life." He said, his voice harsh to Galadriels ears. He came up behind the powerful elf and placed an unwelcome hand on her pale arm. Galadriel looked at the hand in disgust.  
  
"No, that is what you believe, but I know it is not true." Galadriel retorted, turning away from the window and pulling away from Sauron's touch. "You recoil form me, why? It was not always this way." He said silkily, making Galadriel shiver unwillingly.  
  
"That is not true. Besides, our powers cannot unite." Galadriel finished, feeling lame.  
  
"Oh?" Sauron's voice was inescapable. "And what else did that wretched girl show you? Did she show you what I've done? Did she help you undo some of my magic?"  
  
Sauron pulled a box, of elven make, from the fold of his deep black robe. Galadriel watched, knowing that something important lay inside.  
  
"Perhaps she showed you how I came to possess this?" Sauron opened the box, and there, in the folds of elvish silk, lay Galadriel's ring of power, Nenya. The very air around Galadriel trembled.  
  
"How did you get that?" She demanded, striding towards Sauron, her left hand held out in front of her. Sauron moved both of his hands behind his back, out of her reach. Galadriel's hand snaked through the loop of his right arm and grabbed for the box.  
  
"I got it by means of magic, though it was you who gave it to me." His lips brushed Galadriel's cheek as she reached again for the box. At first, she didn't realise that it was Sauron's lips that touched her cheek, thinking it only to be the edge of his hood brushing past. But when Sauron's lips caressed her own, she pulled back, her arms held up as she tried desperately to push him away.  
  
A memory floated into Galadriel's mind, making her limbs limp and weak. As she fell into Sauron's waiting arms, she remembered.  
  
  
  
_The sun was shining brightly, for a change, the penetrating light reflecting off the trees, casting red and orange light across the delicate pale white of Celeborn's skin. Galadriel lay within his arms, her golden hair splayed across the soft goose feather pillow beneath her head. Celeborn played with Galadriels fingers, kissing each fingertip lightly, and stroking the smoothness of Nenya, which caressed her ring finger on her right hand.  
  
Celeborn covered the finger with his mouth and pulled the ring with his teeth, slipping it off Galadriels slender finger. She smiled, and wagged her index finger at him.  
  
"Now," She said in a bossy tone, but her voice was not raised. "You give that back!"  
  
Celeborn smiled, showing his teeth and Nenya held between them. "You must get it back for yourself!" He teased, leaning forward to kiss her.  
  
Galadriel met the kiss, but she had forgotten Nenya, and so did not notice the absence of her ring in her husband's mouth.  
_  
  
  
"You!" Galadriel uttered in complete horror and disgust, pushing herself away from Sauron. He had held her to his chest, admiring her beauty, even if it had faded some. He could help her regain that beauty, or so he believed.  
  
"It was the only way to win you, my love." Sauron replied, reaching out a hand to draw her back. "  
  
Galadriel's mind was reeling. "How long?" She asked, remembering all the times her husband ever held her in a loving embrace.  
  
"How long did you pretend to be my husband?"

* * *

Ok, you have the right to kill me. But if you take this action, I won't be able to write (although I'm sure I can work something out with whoever's in charge.)  
  
I'm sorry, I really am. I've no excuse this time. puppy dog eyes but that doesn't mean you have to hate me.....right? I had MAJOR writers block. Man, it can be a bitch!  
  
I promise to try extra hard, and try to focus more on Galadriel in the next chapter. Sorry! 


	8. Shatter

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
In the Shadows  
  
Chapter Eight – Shatter

  
Galadriel  
  
Sauron's smile has become my most feared look. What can he be thinking as he smirks, his eyes glittering with hidden information. Can this terrible realisation be true? Could he have pretended to be my husband from the time that my beautiful land was defiled by the filth of Mordor?  
  
Questions run through my head; longing for a time when I had the gift of knowing fills my hungry soul. Sauron gives me nothing; a dog left without a bone.  
  
Lost in thought, I remember a time when knowing came easily. If asked if the next day would prove to be a good day for traveling, I would know. I could see into a heart and know it's inner secrets and hurts.  
  
Within the confinements of my cell, the cell that captures the very essence of me, I cannot see more than is in front of me, nor can I see what has passed and now lies in the past. I doubt that the mirror, which showed me a possibility of what was to come, would show me much more than I have guessed.  
  
Sauron eludes me, laughing as I question him about what he has done to deceive me. How did a city so secretive to all who would do it harm fall to become nothing?

Lady Galadriel sat at the window of her cell. It wouldn't be described as a cell by anyone in Sauron's office, they would say it was almost better than that of the Dark Lord himself. Yet the room was a cell, bars separated the Lady from the glass of the window, and the doors that allowed entry to and exit from the room could only be opened by Sauron, if he willed it.  
  
Galadriel's finger traced an intricate pattern on her translucent skin, uncontrolled by a mind occupied by memories of before. Never had she been so immobile, never had time flowed so slowly in her memory. Every day was another grating of nails on a window plane, unbearable and painful.  
  
In all her long years of life, time and present and past had always been something she could see; she had always been in control of her destiny, yet here she was in a room of bars left without nothing but memories and thoughts.  
  
Galadriel had thought, for some length of time, about ending the pain of living life as a ghost; a ghost of a people who had since been murdered until the last few where naught but prisoners in their own lands. Yet suicide had never been embraced as a suitable way for an elf to die, being neither honourable nor easy for those left behind.  
  
The attitude of the elves was to die fighting, and die honourably. But where had the fighting spirit of the White Lady gone? Why did she sit there, as a doom foretold became a harsh reality?  
  
The waning light of the weary sun fell across Galadriel's aging face, her tears highlighted by the thin rays.

  
  
Sauron's head pounded as he anxiously penned his final thoughts towards his master plan onto parchment, a rarity anywhere now that his men had conquered the entire known world. The candlelight by which Sauron wrote flickered, and darkness pressing close to him, making him shiver.  
  
"Light!" He called out, frustrated that the flickering made his head pound more furiously. He had nearly finalised his plans. It was nearly flawless, but nearly was not enough.  
  
"I called for light!" Sauron bellowed, his voice reverberating in the secret room made of magic that was his study. A gangly creature hobbled into the room, his left leg dragging painfully behind him.  
  
"My apologies, great Master." The creature said, his voice a mere gurgle in his wasted throat. "Candles, those damned elves cannot make them fast enough."  
  
Sauron sneered at the mention of elves. He was tempted to spit, but ugly as the creature was, Sauron pitied him and did not want him to endure any unnecessary labour. The creature had served him loyally since he was cruelly twisted and mutated by an ancient power even Sauron feared.  
  
"Careful, Aylid." Sauron warned. He had presented the creature with his name once he had truly proven his loyalty to Sauron and killed one of his kin at Sauron's will. "You were an elf once."  
  
Disgust burned deep in Aylid's eyes, and he turned from his master so he would not see. It was true that he had once been a fair elf, yet the magic that had cursed him had mutated his body more that those now called orcs. His skin was a hideous shade of green brown that looked like the waste of wildmen. His skin was too saggy in parts and stretched tight in others. His eyeballs protruded from his sour face, lined with red veins and with a nasty yellow tinge.  
  
"Remember, Aylid, when my plan is complete and I have convinced the Lady, you will be fair again." Sauron said, a slightly bored tone in his voice. He had constantly reminded his friend, perhaps his only friend, of this fact, yet Aylid always found something else to become unhappy about.  
  
Aylid frowned and turned to meet Sauron's gaze. Doing so always gave the twisted creature a blazing headache, but he always looked his master in the eyes. Sauron admired this.  
  
"But there will be none of those nasty elf-men where we go, when we go?" He asked hopefully, trying to mask his hopefulness with doubtfulness. Sauron's eye twitched.  
  
"No, Aylid-friend." His master replied, and that was all Aylid needed.

  
  
Galadriel studied Sauron carefully, trying to mask her shock.  
  
"This, this plan.....it's preposterous!" She burst, the boldest she had been in a long time. Her shock was barely masked, and beneath the initial shock was a deep fear of what Sauron could achieve if all he said could be done.  
  
"The Valar will not stand for it!" She whispered desperately, searching for a reason to dissuade him.  
  
"They have been taken care of." Sauron countered, his expression unchanging. He sensed something was not quite true about his statement, but being the only surviving wizard besides the pesky Saruman, Sauron would soon find out who the Valar spirits had embodied in order to stop him from his destructiveness.  
  
It was largely unknown for the Valar to take such drastic action, but Sauron's plans had threatened the very existence of all Middle Earth.  
  
Galadriel could not see beyond the being of Sauron, since her magical ability to do so had been robbed from her, yet she could tell that Sauron was deadly serious.  
  
"So, this world you are planning to create. It would lie on top of the existing world?" She asked warily, trying to buy time to think everything through.  
  
Sauron sighed. He wished that he had not allowed himself to fall for this petulant elf, yet she had encouraged him to finalise his dreams more than she realised or wished. He had expected her to ask a lot of questions, but he explained everything in detail. Wasn't that enough?  
  
"Yes, the power drawn from the magical artifacts I have uncovered would power the spell required to create another world, or create an opening to another one."  
  
"But you are not a God!" Galadriel protested, wishing she had her gift of sight to make sense of what Sauron was saying.  
  
"Yes," Sauron snapped. "But I have the power to make my dreams into reality. I could create a rift in the fabric between this world and another, but wouldn't it be more fun to start one from scratch?"  
  
His question was meant to be rhetorical, but Galadriel answered anyway. "No, it wouldn't."  
  
"We could have control over all the creatures to walk on the earth in our world. All creatures would be our children."  
  
The words 'we' and 'our' made Galadriel feel physically sick. Her hands were shaking in her lap as the words sunk in.  
  
"You are serious, then." She stated grimly, her face set in stone.  
  
"Yes." Sauron replied, his smile one of a cat enjoying the warm rays of the sun.

  
  
Aylid paced Sauron's secret study impatiently. Years ago, Sauron had whispered to him rumours of a Valar spirit hiding in a mortal, planning to upset Sauron's plans. He had searched and searched for the essence of the spirit, which should have been on every item the mortal it inhabited touched; yet the essence was nowhere and everywhere at the same time.  
  
It infuriated Aylid so. He was not born of a magical gift, yet he had acquired it after years of serving Sauron. He had been given the gift of sight, one that Aylid did not believe could be given until Sauron had presented it to him, and it had worked.  
  
He had scried with everything he knew how to: glass, fire, water and crystal. But nothing had been revealed to him except a presence. It was always a presence.  
  
He sometimes wished that Sauron would forget the Valar and move onward with his plans. The spell did not require a set time in a millennium; it could be done any time. Many things could go wrong, but the spell could easily be altered to account for any distractions. Aylid knew the spell required to cut a large section of the fabric between worlds and craft it into a world in which Sauron and a select few would inhabit.  
  
The spell was long and not simple; it would take two whole days of moonlight to complete. Aylid muttered parts of the incantation to himself as he paced the study. There was no ritual necessary to perform the spell. Sauron had told Aylid long ago that rituals were only for show, to glorify the products of some of the simplest spells.  
  
There was to be no ritual for the creation of this new world, Sauron detested he very idea of them. Aylid thought they were fine; he enjoyed the build up of tension and excitement in the crowds that would gather to witness a ritual.  
  
Aylid sometimes wondered where he fitted into Sauron's great plans. Would he be given dominion over a certain part of the world? No, Sauron liked the idea of complete domination. He had that now, but had destroyed Middle Earth in the process. There was not a forest of trees anywhere that had survived the onslaught and enslavement of the free peoples.  
  
The sound of Sauron whispering the spell to his secret study drew Aylid slowly from his thoughts.  
  
"Master—"He began, wishing to tell him about the Valar spirit and how he thought they should ignore him. Sauron would anger at Aylid's boldness, but he did not wish to wait until they located it.  
  
"Aylid, tomorrow morning I require you to round up all the elvish prisoners held here in our dungeons. I believe the Valar spirit has chosen one of them in which to reside."  
  
Aylid bowed his head respectfully, but questions buzzed in his thoughts.  
  
"Aylid?" Sauron asked, his eyes concerned. Aylid had not seen such a look in his master before and knew that his thoughts had been revealed to him.  
  
"Speak your fears." Sauron commanded the warped creature.  
  
"How do you know?" Aylid choked out, his gurgling voice making his words barely intelligible.  
  
"The White Lady was confirmed my suspicions. Whilst I talked with her a few moments ago, I subtly read her thoughts, the once on the surface of her subconscious. She was concerned about elves carrying the gift of magic. Since this gift was very strong in her, she may have seen a glimpse of who the Valar spirit resides in."  
  
Aylid reluctantly held his hand up to stop his master. He was not slow witted, but needed to think this new information through, as Sauron usually demanded an opinion of him as soon as he had finished talking. Aylid then lowered his hand and Sauron continued on.  
  
"I suspect it may be the new elven girl, or one of her kin. I could not part the magic woven about her when I question her. She knows, or she is. Either that, or she is a decoy."  
  
Aylid was confused.  
  
"Master, forgive me for asking, but how do you wish to find out if the Valar spirit resides in her? How can we be sure?"  
  
Sauron shook his head. "There are many spells of revelation. There are spells to trick the spirit within the body into reveling itself. Failing that, I feel we should kill the girl."  
  
Aylid wrung his hands and nodded. He knew his task, to choose how he should test the girl and the spirit within.  
  
He sat at a stool in the corner of the study and began to think.

* * *

waves hello! Remember me? Sorry, I've been away, then I got injured so I haven't really been near a computer for a while. You can kill me now.....please be gentle!


	9. Valar

Disclaimer: It's not mine, Tolkien wrote it. (Well, not the fanfic, but you know what I mean.)  
  
In the Shadows  
  
Chapter Nine – Valar  
  
  
Ayssa  
  
  
Melidar looked excited but weary, he had travelled a long way to meet me in our secret spot. We had never thought about loving each other more than friends; I loved Melidar's outrageous stories of adventures he and his brothers had enjoyed before Melidar signed himself to the army. He had dreams of becoming a royal bodyguard, more because of the honour rather than the company.  
  
Melidar would often meet me at a place along the Anduin where he could cross without being swept away by the currents. Sometimes we would race each other along our opposite sides of the river, trying to be the first to reach a certain point where the river dipped low and jump into the icy waters. Melidar often won, but today he was distracted.  
  
He was the first to stop running, but I failed to notice until I had flung myself into the unforgiving waters and shrieked at the unexpected coolness. I felt his hand grip my wrist as I pretended to flail about in the chill water.  
  
"Ayssa, not today." He said shortly, his tone like that of my father when I pester him to teach me how to draw his longbow. I looked up at my friend and studied his face closely.  
  
"What's biting you?" I asked him, punching his shoulder lightly as we started off towards a small grove of trees.  
  
"Ah, I'm being made a soldier!" He grinned, his face and tone losing all seriousness. I smiled, but I was worried. It was a dangerous time to become a solider in any army. Death rates were high with bands of wildmen and other creatures ransacking small villages and attacking travellers. I hoped Melidar wasn't to be a patrol soldier, where he would have to protect those in isolated areas.  
  
"Do not be sad, Ayssa. I'm under command of the prince himself. Orodreth and Bereth are to serve along side me."  
  
I shuddered, hating the thought of anyone having to fight alongside those two. Even if they were Melidar's brothers.  
  
"So, your lifelong dream has been achieved. Serving the prince, being his bodyguard. Say, could you arrange a meeting between us?" I joked, watching for Melidar's reaction. "I hear he is mighty handsome."  
  
Melidar laughed heartily, throwing his arm around my shoulders and hugging me close. "Not at all! Think of the scandal it would cause! Besides, he will be married to whoever will form the strongest alliance. An elf-maiden he will marry of course, but from where? Not you, my dear. I cannot stand the thought of looking after you once he has broken your heart."  
  
I laughed with Melidar, but my happiness was short lived. Was there something Melidar was not telling me? I could sense there was something hanging unsaid in the space between us.  
  
"Melidar?" I asked quietly, finding his hand and holding on to it. "What have you forgotten to tell me?"  
  
He looked troubled now, his eyebrows drawn together in an unsightly frown.  
  
"My parents whisper together, their topic is my and my proposed betrothed. It worries me, for if I marry, I will not be able to see you between looking after my family and serving the prince."  
  
I smiled; my parents had mentioned that I was to marry soon as well. The thought did not worry me, only that I would see less of my friends and family than I wished. I had tried to be optimistic about it, but Melidar was making me feel apprehensive.  
  
"If it eases your heart, Melidar, I am to be wed also." I ventured, anxious to get my friend smiling again.  
  
He lifted his hand, the one I was still holding, and held it to his chest. His almond shaped eyes found mine and held my gaze.  
  
"No, it does not."  
  
  
  
Dreams of my past came thick and fast, leaving me confused and longing for a time that is almost lost.  
  
  
Barad-dûr  
  
  
Aylid had tried to find evidence of a Valar spirit within the girl through her dreams and thoughts available to him in her sub-conscious. He was glad that the dreams were distracting her so; otherwise she would have her mind blocked off to all outside influence.  
  
His master had been pacing the hallway outside the rooms of Lady Galadriel, trying to find something to say to her. Aylid had noticed his masters growing restlessness and so felt the need to hasten his search through the elf-maiden's memories through dreams.  
  
So far, his search had proven to be fruitless. All he had uncovered were feelings for a now dead elf and happier memories of her past. Aylid had to struggle not to let the dreams get to him. He knew that if he tried, he could remember happier moments of his life, times when he was an elf. Aylid was wary when it came to times when he was tempted to use his sight to look into the past. If he strayed to far from the path, he could become trapped in his past.  
  
Aylid put down the large crystal he was using to see into Ayssa's mind and rested a while. He needed to find a time when it was not happy. A time when she perhaps may have been told of the presence of another spirit within her, a presentation of a gift that she did not understand, anything that may hint that the Valar spirit was indeed within Ayssa.  
  
  
Ayssa  


The turn of another human century was a very special day for my family and I. It was my birthday. Not many of my elven friends liked to celebrate their birthdays, they complained that they were an unnecessary waste. Elves live forever, they were forever telling me, we do not need to remind out human friends of that by celebrating another year alive.  
  
I ignored them all, and they always attended my birthday gatherings. It was nothing special, just a nice meal prepared at noon, instead of during the evening, and a small number of gifts presented to me. My new age was a special one. It was one where I could start pursing my dreams, or I could be married.  
  
My parents wished for me to become a lady of the White Lady, but she frightened me sometimes. I had seen her often when I snuck away to meet Melidar. She would often be staring at nothing, looking through everything that passed her line of vision. She could tell my presence when she was deep in thought, her eyes closed.  
  
I had talked to her before when I was returning from a meeting with Melidar. I had just scrambled up a tree to pluck a ripening piece of fruit, my stomach was empty and I felt like a snack before returning to help mother with the evening meal.  
  
She watched me as I sprang away from the tree and landed on the ground. I had been about to race away when I felt her presence on my senses, and turned to see her standing very still, her eyes on me.  
  
"Greetings," She said in a melodious voice. Her smile was radiant, but her eyes never left mine; I felt them searching my soul.  
  
"Do not be afraid, Ayssa. I have not come to tell you off, more to explain something to you."  
  
  
  
I woke suddenly, my dream interrupted by something. My head pounded, the darkness pressed against my senses.  
  
  
Barad-dûr   
  
Aylid let out an anguished gurgle. The crystal he had been using to screen Ayssa's dreams had cracked under the pressure of the power flowing through it, disrupting Ayssa's dream. Aylid knew his master had felt the disruption as the doors to the secret study were opened viciously, Sauron stalking through them angrily.  
  
"What happened?" Sauron asked quietly, his rage making him shake ever so slightly.  
  
"The crystal you gave me, Master, it has failed."  
  
Sauron studied the crystal that Aylid had discarded on the floor. "The Valar spirit did this." He concluded quietly. "You were onto something, and it prevented you from seeing something important."  
  
Sauron had Aylid recount the dream from start to where it was disrupted. He nodded thoughtfully once Aylid had finished and left the study, but not before he called back to he gangly creature: "Rest for a while, Lady Galadriel has some questions I need answered."  
  
  
  
Lady Galadriel sat rigid in her seat. She could not believe what Sauron had just told her. He had been prying into the secrets of a fellow elf, and it made her angry.  
  
"I believe that you something that I need to know." Sauron said, watching the fair elf carefully. Even though her time spent away from her beloved home, which had now been completely destroyed by unquenchable fires, had aged her features greatly, she was still more beautiful than any other creature that walked the halls of Barad-dûr.  
  
"I will not tell you anything, you fat slug." Galadriel spat, unable to help herself. The lame insult made her feel better, like she could still jest in such evil times.  
  
Sauron smiled to himself and changed his appearance to that of her husband. His hood was drawn up over his face, but he pulled it back slightly so Galadriel could see the elven features. He smiled again when he heard her sharp intake of breath, but it was gone again as he felt a sharp sting, Galadriel's fingernails fighting to rip a hole in Sauron's face.  
  
A guard who was positioned in a dark corner of the room came forward immediately, pulling the furious elf from his master and throwing her to the floor, an easy feat since she had lost a lot of weight and was lighter than anything the guard had carried before.  
  
The guard's hand found a handful of hair and yanking Galadriel to her knees, pulling her around to face a livid Sauron. The look on Galadriel's face was one of absolute hatred as Sauron drew close and held her chin in a crushing grip. He wiped his index finger along one of the fresh scratches on his check and forced the finger and the blood on it into Galadriel's mouth.  
  
Galadriel had been about to bite down on the finger when Sauron bug his fingers savagely into her jaw, the pain bringing tears to her eyes and forcing her mouth to stay open.  
  
Sauron then removed his finger and motioned for the guard to leave. The guard, a specially trained Uruk-Hai, let go of Lady Galadriel's hair and resumed his spot in the dark corner, blending in with the wall.  
  
"Why did you do that?" Sauron asked, his voice showing his anger. "Do you not think that as a bit pointless?"  
  
Galadriel did not move from her position on the floor, fearing she would sob if she did. She was thankful for her mane of golden hair covering her anguished face; it saved her from having to look at Sauron.  
  
Sauron bent and pulled Galadriel to her feet by her arm. He then forced her to sit in her chair, pushing her firmly on both shoulders. Galadriel sat heavily, looking away from Sauron, her hair still covering her face. She knew she probably looked like a petulant child, but she made no move to remove her hair from her face. This, Sauron did for her.  
  
"Now, where was I?" He mused aloud, and began to question her once again.  
  
  
Ayssa  
  
  
My head has not ceased to pound, but still I dream.  
  
  
  
I sat before Lady Galadriel, feeling uncomfortable. I had been raised to stand in the presence of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood and sit only once they are seated, but Lady Galadriel had insisted, handing me a drink even. I twirled the slender glass in my fingers, watching the Lady as she searched for something amongst her things.  
  
Once she had located what ever it was she was looking for, she pocketed it and sat before me on a tall stool made of a pale wood. She sat forward and looked into my eyes, and I knew she was reading into my heart.  
  
"You are a very special youngling." She said softly, startling me. I had not seen her move her lips and so realised she was speaking in her special way, the way that my mother and aunts had described to me before.  
  
_Your heart is bold and your purpose true. Do you know what is to come? No, I suppose not. There will be a time, though; you will discover the gift I am to waken in you. I see it in your eyes, the gift that is rare amongst the elves but powerful and useful._ Lady Galadriel smiled and put her hand into the small pocket where she had dropped the item she had been searching for. She pulled it forth and I bit back a gasp of delight. It was a pendant in the shape of a teardrop. It hung on a slender silver chain and the teardrop was a silver white colour that seemed to pulse before my eyes. She dropped the pendant into my hand and I immediately fastened it around my neck and the teardrop rested just below the hollow made in my collarbone.  
  
_This pendant will awaken your power; it is made of an ancient stone discovered long ago. You will not use it as of yet, but dark times I see ahead. Perhaps you will use it then_.  
  
Lady Galadriel then stood and turned away from me. I was dismissed.  
  
"Thank You, my Lady." I whispered, my words catching in my throat.  
  
I stumbled back to my home, my fingers finding the teardrop pendant, which was warm to the touch.  
  
I turned only once, just as I left the small grove, but the Lady had gone.  
  
  
Barad-dûr  
  
  
Aylid called his master forth, blowing out the candle whose flame he has used to search Ayssa's dream. He smiled to himself, then was shamed he had ever doubted Sauron's judgment.

* * *

Hello! I updated a little faster for you.....I hope you guys are still reading! 


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